


The Price of War

by OrangeTabby



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Cullen and Orphans, Death, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Kittens, Medical Procedures, Mild Gore, Minor Character Death, Orphans, Past Abuse, Slow Build, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Violence, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2019-09-15 08:48:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 65,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16930146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrangeTabby/pseuds/OrangeTabby
Summary: The apostate Rose had been hiding in the Hinterlands for years, working as a physician and raising her daughter. The mage/templar war has torn her world and her home apart, leaving nothing but death and pain in its wake.When she gets the chance to join the Inquisition as a healer, Rose is eager to seek safety for the children under her care.But can a mage ever truly be safe?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The Price of War takes place in the same universe as my other long fic The Lonely King so there is some crossover between the two but only in terms of character cameos, nothing story defining.
> 
> This story is a lot darker than The Lonely King, but I wasn't planning on including warnings in individual chapters, only in the story tags. Please do let me know if you feel strongly about chapter warnings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit - 10 Sept 2019 - made a few grammatical changes and tidied a few things up, nothing major. Thank you very much to [Dragonifyoudare](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonifyoudare/pseuds/Dragonifyoudare) for her great Betaing work.

Rose gripped her quarterstaff and risked peering out of the window of the small hovel. She sensed the magic outside, harsh and violent and indiscriminate. Her own magic skittered below the surface of her skin, desperate for a release she dare not give it, not and keep attention away from her little charges. Nothing living was in her view yet. Nothing at all was but bodies and wreckage and loss.

From behind her there was a tiny whimper, and then a quiet shushing sound from young Daven. Sounds of the physical battle somewhere outside washed over her in conjunction with the hum of magic and she shut her eyes briefly.

She’d hoped temporarily leaving their little farmlet and moving into the Crossroads village would provide a modicum of safety from the warring mages and templars. Mother Giselle had been here with a handful of Chantry sisters, and while she usually avoided the fuck out of anyone from the Chantry, she could at least offer her own skills as a physician. Not magic. Not publicly. Never that. But she was skilled with medicine and had been able to save some lives.

The combatants had grown bolder though, even more savage, and they were now attacking the settlement proper. The women from the Chantry were hiding, just like everyone else who could. No one was safe from the reckless hate. Rose had seen the bodies of children she’d been unable to save, the bodies of friends and neighbours burned or sliced like discarded meat.

_ Fuck them all,  _ she thought,  _ all these years hiding and hoping, and this is what mages do when we finally obtain freedom? This is what templars do when we break free from their cages? _

She heard movement behind her, which resolved into the small elven figure of Daven, who was about nine summers old and the older of the two war orphans she’d collected into her charge. He gripped the tiny dagger she’d given him when the nearby fighting had started in earnest.

“It’s okay Mama Rose,” he said, looking pale but determined. “We’ll keep the girls safe”

Rose ducked down to face him and touched his back reassuringly with her free hand. “Of course we will, with a big strong warrior like you at my side. But remember, the fighting scares the little ones so you must stay right with them.”

He nodded smartly, his straw-coloured curls flopping into his eyes, and crawled back to the terrified looking children huddled together under the table at the back of the hovel.

Rose looked outside again, and saw a flash of red mage robes at the corner of her vision. She flattened herself on the ground.

“Maker’s balls,” she cursed under her breath, gripping the quarterstaff more firmly and preparing with reluctance to fully grasp her magic. The smooth firm timber under her hands grounded her. Her unadorned wooden staff was a farmer’s weapon, not a mage weapon for an apostate who was hiding in plain sight.

The thin sound of terrified wailing cut through the tense air of the hovel.

She hissed and looked to the group of children, seeing Daven gather the other orphan, Mari, into his arms. Mari was about one and a half years old now and scarcely old enough to be off the teat before the murder of her parents some months before. Rose had been the midwife at her birth, her parents both crying with happiness over the safe delivery of the child they had spent many years asking the Maker for. The toddler was thin, pale and now tearstained as the pressure of a situation she had no way to understand was too much.

Rose wriggled over the floor to the children, smiling with false cheer and then holding a finger up to her lips.

_ Bad timing bad timing bad timing,  _ she thought.

“Hey now,” Rose whispered with false cheer, “just a little bit longer and then we can go back to the farm and see Messere Fluffy, and the goats, and we can make some pancakes! How does that sound?”

Daven caught her lie, but he hugged the sniffling Mari closer. “And we’ll have apple cordial,” he said to her and Ivy, “and maybe if we’re good Mama Rose will take us to Redcliffe to see the lake.”

Rose could feel the battle magic increase in tempo outside, and the sounds of metal on metal getting closer but she fixed the smile on her face and looked at the children.

“I bet you would love to see the lake. Why don’t we play ‘Shhh let’s be quiet so we don’t disturb the Lake Monster’?”

Her own daughter, four-year-old Ivy, frowned and said, “That’s not a fun game, Mama.”

The noise and magical currents of battle were getting ever closer and the bile of terror closed over Rose’s throat. The thought that her children might soon join the other sad, abandoned little bodies on the cold ground was too much to bear. 

“Well, let’s make sure we stay as quiet as little mice anyway,” she rasped.

_ I won’t cry,  _ Rose thought,  _ I will not cry, and we will all make it out of this terrible place alive. _

Daven was burying his face in Mari’s soft brown hair and trying hard to be brave for the younger children. Ivy scowled ferociously, but remained quiet.

There was an almost gentle WHUMP from above their heads as a fireball hit the fragile roof of the hovel and burst into flame. As one, the children looked up and started to scream.

_ Fuck you, _ Rose said silently to the Maker,  _ fuck you and fuck this war. _

“Okay everybody OUT now,” Rose said sharply, and pulled Ivy out from the table by the back of her smock. She settled the quarterstaff on her back and then hooked Mari under her arm. Daven grabbed his dagger.

She kicked open the door, shielding the children from splinters with her body. “Stick together and go straight into the trees. Don’t look at anything except where we’re going.”

Ivy started to cry silently, her skinny shoulders shaking. Daven put his free arm around her. Rose shifted Mari to a more secure position on her hip as the toddler sobbed into her shoulder.

Leading the way through the door, she almost ran over the red-robed mage she’d seen earlier. There was an infinitesimal pause which took a lifetime when  they locked eyes.

Rose seldom used her magic. As far as anyone in the Hinterlands knew before the war, she was an eccentric widow with a daughter, a large cat and two goats. She provided medical services for her neighbours and cultivated a reputation for a gruff bedside manner. If Ivy recovered unusually fast from the lung sickness that had taken hold when she was two summers old, well that was just down to skilled herbalism, dedicated nursing and a large supply of goat’s milk.

An apostate who used magic was an apostate headed straight back to a Circle. Any rumour of magic use would still result in her recapture and the loss of her daughter. Even when the fighting began, the Circles dissolved, and all mages became apostates, she refused to blow her cover. She saved the children she could and kept them safe on her little farm, until the war came too close and they had to run to a place that was panic and grief and not safe at all.

The mage had beautiful dark green eyes, Rose noticed.

She thrust the screaming Mari into Daven’s arms, hissing at he and the sobbing Ivy, “Run to the trees.” From one heartbeat to the next she gave in to the siren song of her magic and cast a protective barrier over the children, thickening the air in a mobile shell around them.

The fingers of the mage were aflame, and he grinned maniacally, raising his shimmering hands towards the retreating backs of the children.

Rose raised her own hands, now glittering with the unaccustomed battle magic of frost. Her sturdy farmer’s quarterstaff served as a focus, but there was no time to reach it on her back. Her offensive magic might be unused and neglected but it hadn’t diminished in power over the long years of her freedom.

She shut her eyes, the better to see where the tendrils of frost gently reached out and grasped the green-eyed mage. The heat from his flames diminished as Rose enveloped him in a powerful blizzard of ice and snow, fuelled by her fury and terror.

A sharp pain bloomed in the side of her head as his magical staff connected just above her ear. A splatter of her blood hit the cold ground. The other apostate moved sluggishly through the cold but was still able to snarl at her and keep swinging. Rose fell to her knees and moved her hands through a glyph formation in the air before her, taking another blow to the head before she threw herself backwards. Her glyph took effect and the lower half of the mage was enclosed in ice, affixing him to the ground.

A dagger she recognised as Daven’s flew through the air and sunk into the mage’s side, and behind her she heard the rustling of the children reaching the trees and fleeing into the woods at the edge of the settlement. Mari’s thin wail of terror and Ivy’s hiccoughing sobs became quieter and faded from hearing.

The mage snarled and clutched at his side, then sent a gout of flame in the direction the children had gone. Rose took advantage of his distraction to draw her quarterstaff out of the straps on her back and focus a stream of hoar frost over his form, turning his body a deep blue to match her own eyes.

Her head throbbed from the blows she’d taken, and she could feel blood oozing through her hair.

Rose felt the reality of the world around her starting to increase, her connection to the Fade dimming. The shrieking melody of her magic abruptly stalled, as the sickeningly familiar blanket of a templar’s Silence spell covered her.

One of the rogue templars emerged from behind the frozen mage, and the swinging of a greatsword took the mage’s head off his shoulders as Rose scrambled to her feet.

Her mind was quiet now, the quiet of the Silence giving the noise of her breathing too much room. The reality of the air around her was plain and simple, no longer filled with Fade energy for her manipulate.

_ Just a little blood,  _ said a new voice whispered inside her head,  _ only a little blood and I’ll teach you how to defeat them all. _

“Oh, you can fuck right off, Pride Demon,” Rose muttered to the voice, assuming a defensive stance as she kept her eyes focused on the templar. 

_ Together we can save the children,  _ said the Pride Demon,  _ we can finally reach our potential. We won’t let any more children die. _

The flash of memory hit Rose. Half a decade ago now that same voice rasping in her ear in the cold stone halls of the Ostwick Circle. Her doomed brother battling for her freedom, his templar armour splattered with his own blood. The blood from her destroyed phylactery skidding underfoot as she ran for her liberty. Her own freedom, and freedom for Ivy, her then-unborn daughter, barely quickening within her womb.

“If I won’t bargain with you to save our lives then, I won’t bargain with you to save our lives now,” she snarled.

“Talking to demons, are you?” said the templar. “You’re all the same. Maleficar scum.”

Rose shoved the voice of the demon to the back of her mind and focused on the templar advancing on her.

_ Hit behind the knees, behind the knees, _ Rose thought frantically.  _ The more I delay him the further away Daven can get the other children. _

The templar had a rictus grin underneath his helm. The malevolence in his piercing dark eyes made Rose’s skin crawl.

“I’ve a mind to get a taste of you, pretty mage,” he rasped.

Rose ducked to the side and swung her quarterstaff at his knees, trying to focus beyond her headache and now the nausea that threatened to overwhelm her. There was a gaping wound inside her body where her magic should have been.

“Fuck you, templar bastard,” she snarled.

Surprisingly nimbly, the templar dodged her attack. “Oh, I will fuck you bloody for that,” he spat, and swung the greatsword at her.

Rose rolled away and used her momentum to take another swing at his knees, this time connecting behind them and causing the templar to stumble. Her head was still ringing from the blows the other mage had inflicted.

_ That’s a concussion right there, but you can still run. _   Rose’s thoughts were getting fuzzy. _ You’re fucked, but the little ones might still get away. _

She distantly felt the tendrils of her magic starting to creep back, but it was nowhere near enough to defend herself properly or provide healing.

_ Just a little blood, _ whispered the Pride Demon again into her mind.  _ You know we can be strong enough to fix this. _

“Never,” whispered Rose, “never.”

She staggered toward the centre of the village, away from where the children had gone into the forest.

_ Follow me, templar, follow me follow me,  _ she thought desperately.

Rose could hear the clanking behind her as he gave chase. Her vision was starting to dim. She tripped over a rock, but she kept scrabbling away, waiting for the inevitable blow to come.

Suddenly there was a dull metallic thunking sound and Rose risked a look backwards. The templar gurgled as he staggered under the momentum of a crossbow bolt piercing the armour between the shoulder of his sword arm and his neck. Rose skidded to a halt, turned around and ran straight back at him. She screamed inarticulately as she swung her quarterstaff at his armoured head and heto crumpled sideways. Enough of her mana had returned that she was able to trickle frost into the templar’s neck area, exposed in his fall.

“FUCK YOU,” she screamed at the templar on the ground in front of her, at the Pride Demon reaching into her mind and at the Maker who had forsaken them all. She crushed the templar’s frozen neck with the butt of her staff.

Rose looked wildly around, but the noise of battle was further within the village, and she couldn’t see anyone else nearby.

The bolt had come from the direction of the children, and she managed to lurch towards the trees, blood pouring down her face from her head wound. Her breathing was grating, and she ran blindly, headless of the branches that began to scratch her face as she reached the tree line.

Near the edge of the forest she saw two dwarves, a bald elf and a tall dark-haired human woman. Daven was standing protectively in front of the two little girls.

With the last of her strength Rose raised her shaking hand and cast a barrier over the children.

“It’s okay, Mama Rose,” Daven said quickly, “these people won’t hurt us.”

One of the dwarves was a red headed woman, and she gestured towards Rose with a hand that was crackling with green fire. “I’m Della Cadash from the Inquisition,” she said, “and we’re here to help.”

Rose’s vision dimmed completely, and she fell to the ground.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now with 100% more goats!

Rose opened her eyes to the anxious face of Mari hovering over her. Mari’s bright blue eyes were wide, and her soft brown hair had been tidied into stubby braids. Someone had wiped the grime off the toddler’s face, and there were the remains of breadcrumbs around her little mouth and on the front of her smock.

“Ro?” Mari whispered, gently patting Rose’s cheek.

Rose caught her hand and kissed it. “It’s okay baby, I’m awake now.”

She sat up, wincing at the faint pain still in her head. Someone had bandaged it, but she could also sense the faint residue of basic magical healing on her skin. They were in a canvas tent, and someone had given Mari a blanket she’d used to make a nest beside Rose’s bedroll.

She gingerly stood up and took Mari’s hand. Outside the tent it was early evening, and the other children were sitting beside a campfire, holding bowls of stew and avidly watching the crossbow wielding dwarf she’d seen earlier. This dwarf was redheaded, like the woman with the green hand. He was sitting with his own bowl of stew, gesticulating with his spoon, and he appeared to be in the middle of telling Daven and Ivy a story.

“And the dragon flew RIGHT OVER MY HEAD!” The man waved his spoon around and the children gasped. “But Hawke launched the biggest bolt of electricity I’d ever seen…”

“This must be the only story Varric knows that is suitable for children,” a voice came from beside Rose and she looked up to see the dark-haired human woman from earlier. She had what Rose recognised as an eastern-Nevarran accent.

“They seem happy enough,” said Rose. She cleared her throat, focusing on flattening her natural Free Marches accent to sound more southern-Ferelden. Doing so was second nature after so many years. “Where are we?”

“In a camp near the Crossroads. We’ve cleared the settlement of combatants, but the surrounding areas are still unsafe.”

Rose blinked in surprise. “Just like that, you cleared the area of mages and templars?”

The Nevarran woman shrugged with one shoulder. “The Inquisition has some small skill in combat.” She eyed Rose. “My name is Cassandra Pentaghast.”

“My name is Rose… ah, just Rose.”

Mari hugged Rose’s leg, put her thumb in her mouth and watched the two women.

The expression on Cassandra’s face was inscrutable. “And you are an apostate.”

Rose schooled her face to blankness to match the other woman’s. “That is a dangerous accusation to make about a person.”

Cassandra’s countenance softened. “I saw you cast ice into the neck of that templar. I am a Seeker. You also cast a barrier over the children before you fainted, I sensed it. You have nothing to fear from us. The Circles are disbanded, and we are welcoming mages into our ranks.”

Rose rocked back on her heels but didn’t respond. Mari let go of her leg and toddled over to the other children, plonking herself in Daven’s lap to listen to the story.

“The elven boy in your charge tells me you are a skilled physician. We would particularly welcome another healer in the Inquisition.”

“What’s the catch?” Rose finally spoke, frowning at the Seeker.

Cassandra raised an eyebrow. “Why would there be a catch?”

“Is it like the Circle? Are you recruiting templars to watch mages? Would you try to take the children away from me?” Even simply saying the words made Rose’s heart miss a beat.

Cassandra’s face softened. “So you escaped from a Circle? To the best of my knowledge none of the mages have children. For obvious reasons. But no, no one would take your children away. There are many children from among the refugees. We have set up basic schooling for them. We do have templars in the Inquisition, but just as many mages and they remain free.”

Rose considered the Seeker’s words. “Would you want me to use magical healing or mundane healing?”

“Either. Both. Whichever the situation calls for.”

_Safety for the children and the chance to freely use magic? I really hope this is real and not a head-injury induced dream._

Rose looked over at the children, then back at Cassandra and nodded. “Alright. If possible, though, I would like to visit our small farm on the way to Haven. I have medical instruments, texts and supplies that would be useful. And, ah, some animals.”

“Farm animals? To eat?”

Rose fidgeted a little. “No, family members. Two goats and a cat. Well, assuming no one has found them and taken them already.”

Cassandra sighed, but nodded in agreement. “Show me on a map after you’ve eaten your dinner and I’ll see what we can do. I think Mother Giselle was wanting to speak with you when you regained consciousness too.”

 

***

 

“The patients in this area of the camp are slightly more injured.” Mother Giselle paused and looked Rose up and down. “Child, I wish you’d told me about your magic earlier.”

“Why? So your Chantry would imprison me again?”

Mother Giselle winced very slightly. “No, Mistress Rose, so we might utilise your skills for the most serious of cases. People died who might have lived with magical intervention.”

“I… fuck.” Rose scowled. “I used magic on the patients I saw who would have died otherwise.”

Mother Giselle shook her head. “But there were other people, the worst cases whom we could only give a comfortable passing with the skills we thought we had at our disposal.”

Rose’s chest felt like there was a druffalo sitting on it.

_So, I’m responsible for yet more deaths_ , she thought. M _ore blood on my hands because of my actions. First my brother, but how many others?_

She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I’ll attend to these patients,” she muttered, and whirled away before the Chantry Mother gave a response.

Her first patient was a local farmer, now refugee like the rest, named Ruy. He grew the best pumpkins in the district, and had a friendly dog named Sal, she remembered. His leg wound was nasty, a large slash right through the front of his thigh.

She cleansed it with a dilute infusion of blood lotus, alcohol and water. She bandaged the wound, then paused.

“Would you like me to…” Rose grimaced and pinched the bridge of her nose between her forefinger and thumb. “Would you, I mean should I…”

_Go on_ , _say the words. They are my ticket to Haven and safety for the children._

“Would you like me to magically augment the healing process?” said Rose quickly.

Ruy recoiled as much as he was able to on the narrow pallet. “I heard rumours you were an apostate. I didn’t believe them, because you were such a good healer.”

“It’s harmless Ruy, I would simply enhance and speed up your body’s natural healing processes under the dressing on your wound.”

Ruy’s voice rose to a shout. “Stay away from me.”

The small form of Della Cadash appeared around the corner, the green light from her hand casting a faint glow over the area.

Ruy’s attention snapped from Rose to the dwarf. “They are calling you the Herald of Andraste,” he said, sounding awestruck.

Della sighed heavily. “Ancestors preserve us, so they are. Now what is the problem here?”

“Mistress Rose here is a filthy mage. She’s been lying to us for years. Maker only knows how many people have died because of her.”

“Maker’s fucking balls, you know what?” Rose snapped. “You will not die from your wounds. Magical healing would have eased your pain and scarring, but you are welcome to them both.”

She turned her back on Ruy and stalked over to the next patient. She heard Herald Cadash murmur something to the farmer, then she followed Rose. The next patient was a middle aged elven woman with ice burns down her arm from an encounter with one of the rebel mages.

Rose crouched down beside her.

“May I examine you?” Rose said shortly.

The woman nodded, shifting to allow Rose better access to her arm. “And you can use magic on me. My old Mam was Dalish, I know that magic is nothing to fear from most mages.”

Rose experienced the faintest tickle in her mind from the Pride Demon. She took a deep breath and grounded herself in the present.

“Thanks,” she muttered to the older woman. She retrieved several lengths of thin linen strips and shoved them towards Della Cadash without looking. “Here, hold these for me. Please.”

She felt the Herald take the bandages from her grasp, and so she shut her eyes and gently touched the elven woman’s arm, just above the wound. Rose slowed her breathing and searched with her magical senses for the tendrils of Fade energy in the body of her patient. She lived for these moments, never feeling truly alive unless the music of the Fade surrounded her. Sacrificing the use of her magic in favour of keeping Ivy safe was a choice she’d make again a thousand times over, but by Andraste it was good to heal someone openly, and not treat her magic like a dirty secret.

Rose could sense the energy building up with her encouragement, so she directed it to repair the damage to the woman’s arm, plumping up blood vessels and restoring the cells in her skin. After a few moments she opened her eyes and pulled her hand back. The redness of the burn had faded to pink, and it was oozing far less blood.

“It’s better to let the arm finish healing on its own,” she said by way of explanation for the damage still visible, “I’ve started the process but give it a few days to complete. This way you avoid the long-term weakness in your body’s natural defences that complete magical healing leaves.”

The patient nodded as Rose retrieved the bandages from Della and carefully covered the worst of the wounds.

Rose waved off the woman’s thanks and walked towards the next patient.

“That’s an interesting bedside manner you have,” commented the Herald.

Rose shrugged, rolled her shoulders and stretched. “You mean with that idiot Ruy? It’s been a long and really quite shit day. Besides, you need me to do my job, do you not? Not be nice to people who are calling me names.”

Della snorted a laugh. “Fair point. I had a question to quickly ask before you see your next patient.”

“Ask away.”

“Solas has magically stabilised my hand to the best of his ability, but this green shit under my skin itches like a flaming Bronto’s ass. You seem competent and you’ve got quite a reputation amongst the locals. Do you have any ideas for non-magical relief? I asked the apothecary in Haven, Adan, but he just stared at my tits then sent me on some bullshit mission to find a piece of paper.” Della made a dismayed face.

“Hmm. Can I take a look?” Rose held out her hand.

Della placed her hand in Rose’s, palm up. Rose leaned forward to examine the green mark. The Fade was thick around it, but with a palpable sense of wrongness, the way that pus was thick and noisome instead of healthy clear fluid from a wound. The Herald’s skin had healed over it, but it was red and irritated and emitted the occasional spark.

Rose let go of Della’s hand and tapped her chin, considering. “Have you tried a thick emulsion of embrium and spindleweed?”

“No. Could you make me some?”

“I’ve got spindleweed, but no embrium at the moment. Not since the war began.”

Della made a dismissive gesture. “We’ll have some at Haven. If not, we can get it in.”

“Alright, I’ll make some up for you. It’s useful stuff anyway, I used it on Ivy a lot when she was a baby, it always cleared rashes right up.”

“Wait a minute,” Della said, tilting her head to peer intently up at Rose, “are you recommending that I use ass cream on the mark that the humans consider to be the divine gift of Andraste?”

“Sure,” said Rose, shrugging, “if it works for baby bottoms I’m certain it’ll work for your hand.”

The Herald grinned. “I think I like you. I think I like you a lot.”

 

***

 

The wagon lumbered up the track to their farm. Daven and Ivy jumped out as soon as they were at the top, running towards the large brown and black striped figure of a cat sitting on the stoop of their house.

“MESSERE FLUFFY!” Ivy shrieked, throwing her arms around the beast. “YOU’RE OKAY! WE’RE HERE TO SAVE YOU.”

“Messere Fluffy?” Varric raised an eyebrow at Rose from where he rode beside the wagon on his stocky pony.

“Messere Fluffy,” Rose said, and sighed. “Ivy insisted on naming him that. I’m not even sure he’s a boy, he’s so fluffy it’s too hard to tell.”

“FUFF,” exclaimed Mari, wiggling to get down from Rose’s arms. Rose swung her down to the ground, and she toddled at speed towards the cat.

Excited bleating sounded from behind the house.

“The goats are okay too!” Ivy let go of Messere Fluffy and skipped over to where two goats were coming into view. “Look Mama! Ser Betsy is looking very fat, she might lay a baby soon. Jonty is looking fat too, but I don’t think he has a baby in his tummy. Boy goats aren’t allowed to have babies.”                                      

“Bleeeh,” said Ser Betsy, nibbling delicately at the hem of Ivy’s tunic.

Varric looked slightly stunned. “That’s quite a menagerie you have.”

Rose smiled faintly. “Animals or children?”

Varric laughed, and slid off his pony, walking over to the children so they could introduce him to the goats and the cat.

Rose jumped off the wagon and strode over to the door of their little cottage. She deftly dodged Jonty’s attempt to give her a friendly headbutt and opened the door with some trepidation. The house was messy, as they’d left in a hurry, but appeared otherwise untouched.

There were two empty sacks in the pantry, and Rose grabbed them. They’d only taken a few things when they fled to the Crossroads, so she tossed changes of clothes for them all into the sacks. The rag dolls belonging to the girls went in, and the woven blanket that had belonged to Daven’s mother. She put extra blankets in one sack and wrapped the jars of her dried medicinal herbs in them. Her bag of medical instruments went on top. In the second sack she put the pile of rags she’d been saving to use as clouts for Mari.

Rose checked the rickety shelving beside the sleeping pallets in the back room. Her beloved medical texts were still there. There was a book on human and elf anatomy that had been smuggled out of Tevinter, with uncomfortably blood mage associations but valuable information for fixing up wounds without magic. Rose had bought it from a peddler journeying through the Hinterlands, along with a detailed text on the uses of herbs, and a general guide to midwifery, using most of the precious gold she’d saved. She’d studied some non-magical healing in the Circle, but knowledge was power. Being an effective physician was the best cover she could find in the outside world. Even if someone had suspected her of magic, it would take a particularly stupid person to rid the community of the only person nearby who might save their lives in a medical emergency.

She carefully placed those three volumes on top of the rags, along with a templar-written guide to battlefield medicine she’d found in an abandoned templar encampment very early in the war. Rose tested the weight of the sacks and grimaced. They were heavy but manageable, just.

She carried the sacks to the door and stopped to look around. She and Ivy had been happy here, making a life for themselves as a loving family. Anything was worth being able to keep her daughter, instead of having her ripped from Rose’s life at birth. They would make a new life in Haven until the war ended. Maybe one day they could come back to this little house and resume their lives with Daven and Mari as part of their family too. Rose had a pang of sadness and longing, imagining the little house filled with love and laughter, in a safe Hinterlands, after the war.

The children rushed over to help Rose drag the sacks over to the wagon, mostly getting underfoot. Varric strode over and took a sack in one hand. He grabbed the back of Mari’s smock in the other, swinging the toddler over the ground.

“Well, Healer,” he said, grinning at Rose, “one of your sacks is wiggling. Have you got nugs in here?”

Mari shrieked with laughter and waved her arms and legs around.

Ivy giggled. “No Varric, that’s Mari!”

“Mari?” The dwarf did an exaggerated double take. “Where has the little nuglet gone? She was here just before.”

Even the usually sombre Daven was smiling, and Rose put her free arm over his skinny shoulders, hugging him against her.

“You’re holding her, silly Varric,” Ivy said, grinning broadly.

Varric looked down at his hand, where Mari was looking up at him and beaming. “Why so I am. How foolish of me.” He carefully placed the sack of their belongings on the back of the wagon and then shifted his grip to grasp the little girl under her arms. He swung the giggling Mari up on to the wagon bed, then turned to Ivy and did the same. The girls clung to each other and laughed uproariously.

Jonty was attempting to poke his head into the sack that Rose held. She leaned over to give Daven a kiss on his temple then moved her arm from around him, using her freed hand to scratch the goat between his horns.

“Come on big boy,” Rose said to Jonty, “let’s get you and Ser Betsy tethered to the wagon.”

“Mehh,” said Jonty, giving her a vacant stare.

Varric took the sack off her and she sent Daven off in search of some rope.

Messere Fluffy trotted over to the wagon, and jumped lightly up onto the wagon bed. He eyeballed the girls and sniffed them thoroughly. The enormous cat then settled himself at the front of the wagon, like a fluffy figurehead at the prow of a ship.

Daven came running back with a length of rope and Rose tethered the goats to the back of the wagon. Daven scrambled on board and she joined him. She cast one last look at their house, and they set off towards their new life in Haven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case anyone was confused by the term - 'clout' is an archaic term for a nappy/diaper.


	3. Chapter 3

Rose stood in the thick mud outside the walls of Haven, regarding the dozens of tents belonging to other refugees dotted amongst the churned-up snow. She held Mari on her left hip, whilst Ivy clutched the hem of her tunic and Daven stood close by. Messere Fluffy picked his way dejectedly through the mud, his bushy tail twitching in agitation. Ser Betsy stood close to Daven, emitting the occasional bewildered bleat, while Jonty trotted up to the nearest tent and began happily chewing on the canvas.

Rose sighed. “We’d better take the goats to the stables I suppose. Though I’m not sure where the stables are.”

She felt lost. She wasn’t expecting any particular welcome, they were just some new refugees amongst many, but she wasn’t sure quite what to do now they were in Haven. Everyone else from their travelling group had Very Important Inquisition Business they needed to be doing, so they’d dropped Rose and the children off, leaving them to their own devices.

A flutter of red cloth caught the corner of her vision, and for a moment an image of the mage who had attacked them in the Crossroads swam in front of her eyes. She drew a sharp breath.

The delicate touch of Mari’s hand stroking her face bought her back to the present. “Ro’?” the toddler whispered.

Rose forced a smile. “Look at Messere Fluffy,” she said to the children, “I don’t think he likes the mud very much!”

 _What would Father say if he could see me now?_ she thought, as the children chattered to each other, their solemn silence broken by her words. _I know what he’d say. He’d say I was prideful, selfish and a shame to our family name, and he’d be right._ She shook herself and took a deep breath. _A total fuckup I may be but dwelling on past sins isn’t helpful to anyone._

As Rose looked around for someone she could ask for directions, a tall, willowy woman with pale hair tied back in a severe bun came into sight, clutching a writing board, paper and quill. She headed straight for their forlorn group.

“I’m Captain Caroline Reeves,” said the woman by way of greeting when she was close to them, “can I help you with anything?”

“Ahh hello, we just arrived in Haven. The other refugees are on their way, but we travelled ahead of them, with the Herald and Seeker’s party,” said Rose, adjusting her grip on Mari, who had started sucking her thumb and looking heavy-eyed. “I gather you’ll assign us a tent?”

Captain Reeves looked at her notes. “You’re the one with all the children and goats? You must be the new healer, Mistress Rose. The Seeker sent us a raven about you.”

Ser Betsy wandered over to the newcomer, giving an enthusiastic “Mlehhh.”

“Yes, I’m a physician. If someone is available to care for the children, my skills are yours.” Rose shifted Mari to the other hip. As slight as the little girl was, she was still heavy to carry for any length of time.

The other woman nodded, casting a nervous eye at Ser Betsy. “The older children can attend the camp school if you like, and you can start work on the morrow.”

Rose smiled at Daven, whose face had brightened at the word ‘school’. “Yes, that will be fine for Daven and Ivy. Mari is still a babe though.”

“I know of a young woman who might be agreeable to watch her while you work. I’ll send for her shortly.” Captain Reeves made notes on her ledger. Ser Betsy moved closer, eyeing the paper that hung over the edge.

Bored with the conversation, Ivy walked over to where Jonty was still investigating the canvas as a possible food source. She dropped to her hands and knees in the mud and began to copy the goat.

“Look Mama, I’m Jonty,” Ivy said in a loud voice, “and I like to eat tents. Hey, Daven, do you remember when we saw Jonty giving Ser Betsy special cuddles, and Mama said we mustn’t stare at them?”

Rose soldiered on with the conversation, ignoring Ivy. “Thank you, Captain. We’ll need to take the goats to the stables and if possible, can I get help carrying the two sacks with our possessions in them? They have medical supplies I don’t want to risk dropping.”

Captain Reeves looked askance at Ivy, who was bleating at Jonty. The goat was attempting to chew on one of Ivy’s braids. She looked back at Rose and nodded. “I’ll walk you to the stables now. The wagon with your belongings will be close by, and after that I can show you to your tent.” She began to walk away from their group.

Ser Betsy gave a mournful “Beehh” and trotted behind the woman.

Rose hissed at Ivy and Daven to follow along. Mud caked Ivy’s breeches under her smock. They squelched the short distance to the stables, children and goats in tow. Messere Fluffy scorned further mud by disappearing up the nearest tree in a flurry of snow and bark. Rose envied him.

The stables only had a handful of horses. According to Captain Reeves they had their hearts set on convincing the famous Horsemaster Dennet to give both his skills and his stock to the cause, but had to complete a series of tasks for him first. Rose had met the Horsemaster when his daughter Seanna broke her arm in a fall from one of their horses. They were a pleasant family, though she imagined he’d enjoy sending the Inquisition on all sorts of wild quests to gain his favour.

Rose and Daven herded the goats in to a large pen, then locked them in. Ser Betsy bleated sadly, and Jonty gave her a look of betrayal.

So did Ivy. “They’ll have sads without us, Mama,” she said, her lower lip quivering.

Rose leaned down to give Ivy a one-armed hug. “They’ll be fine, I promise. See all that lovely hay they have to eat! You can come and visit them every day.”

Mari removed her thumb from her mouth, looked over at the goats and said, “Sads.”

Daven stuck his hand through the slats of the pen and scratched between Ser Betsy’s horns. “They’ll be safer in here, Ivy. We don’t want them to get eaten by wolves.”

Ivy’s eyes grew round and filled with tears. “Mama? Wolves?”

Rose took a calming breath and counted to ten. “They’ll have safe and happy fun times in the pen, Ivy!”

Rose saw Daven mouthing the word “wolves” as they walked away, but fortunately Ivy was looking at the goats, not the elven boy. Captain Reeves showed them where the expedition drivers had left the wagons.

“I’ll come to help you in a moment,” said the Captain, “I just need to find a messenger.”

Rose waved her hand in a casual acknowledgement. “It’s fine, take your time.”

She and the children walked over to the wagons, Rose putting Mari down on the least muddy patch of ground she could see. She checked the sacks, making sure everything was she’d left it, then tugged them towards the edge of the wagon bed.

 A tall, blond, armoured man with a stiff demeanour that screamed ‘templar’ strode over to them. He eyed Rose. “Can I help you? I’m told these belong to our new healer.”

“These are mine,” she said shortly, unwilling to argue with him, even though he didn’t wear uniform armour. If there was anything she learned from the Circle, it was how to recognise a templar and avoid pissing them off.

He put a hand on one sack, stopping her from removing it. “I’m afraid I can’t let you take these. You will have been given basic supplies with the other refugees.”

Rose breathed heavily through her nose.

_Don’t annoy him._

“Yes, Ser Templar, because clearly myself and my band of tiny thieves are here to steal these old clothes and medical books.”

 _Well then, I must be out of practice_ , she thought ruefully.

They both looked at the children. Mari was gawking at the man and picking her nose. Ivy had seemingly forgotten her goat troubles and was dancing on the spot with her eyes shut. Daven was staring over at the breach in the sky, oblivious to anything else.

“I’m not a templar any longer,” said the man abruptly.

That got her attention. Rose gave a disbelieving snort. “No-one leaves the Order.”

He inclined his head towards her. “Nevertheless, I have.”

Rose reigned in her temper. “Fine, okay, well good for you. If I tell you the contents of the sacks, will you believe I’m the new healer?” she said, attempting to smile, which was more like a showing of teeth in his direction. “Andraste’s tits, I can heal you if you like. Have any bruises or unfortunate chafing you’d like to be rid of?”

Captain Reeves chose that moment to reappear. “Ahh, Mistress Rose,” she said, cheerfully. “I see you’ve met Commander Cullen.”

Rose had a twinge of recognition at his name, but she couldn’t place it.

“Yes, how lovely to have met you.” Rose bared her teeth at him again. “Now am I allowed to take possession of our worldly goods? Or would you like to have custody of Mari’s clout rags?”

At the sound of her name, Mari toddled over and stood in front of the Commander with an awestruck expression on her face.

He moved back from the wagon and offered Rose a small bow. “My apologies, Healer. I was mistaken in your intentions.”

“Apology accepted. I can absolutely see why you’d think someone would want to steal our threadbare blankets and worn out clothing,” Rose said, her voice dry.

He gave her a wry smile. “I find, Mistress Rose, that when people have lost everything, threadbare blankets and worn out clothing suddenly have a surprising amount of appeal.”

Rose hefted one sack into her arms and hummed a reluctant acknowledgement of his words. “You are quite right, Commander. Thank you for keeping them safe.”

She turned towards the refugee camp. Captain Reeves, who had been watching their exchange with a bemused smile, hastily gathered up the other sack. Ivy stopped dancing and pulled on Daven’s arm to get his attention.

“Oh please, you must let me help with those.” Commander Cullen took half a step towards Rose before the small form of Mari blocked his way.

The toddler held her arms up towards the soldier. “Hup,” she said, crisply.

“She wants you to pick her up,” said Ivy, helpfully.

The Commander looked nonplussed. “I meant help with your belongings.”

Rose grinned at him. “It’s okay, Commander Cullen, I’m sure a big strong man like you can manage to carry a little girl.”

Mari still had her arms up. She gave the large man a beatific smile and waggled her fingers. The Commander seemed to struggle with himself for a moment, then he removed his gauntlets, tossed them in the wagon and picked up the child. Mari squealed with excitement and grasped his ear.

Rose giggled, in spite of herself. “That’s Mari, Commander. She lost her parents to the war a few months ago. And this is Ivy and Daven,” she said, nodding towards the other children. Ivy waved at him, Daven gave a small smile.

The man gave each child a respectful nod. Mari threw her arms around his neck and went stiff with glee, still emitting the occasional squeal. He patted her back.

He looked back at Rose. “They are all orphans you’ve taken in?”

Rose shook her head. “No, only Mari and Daven. Ivy is my own daughter.”

“Oh, is your husband a healer too?”

For a moment, Rose could almost feel the hard steel touch of Martin’s hands on her skin. Hear the creaking of his armour. See his dark brown eyes, so like Ivy’s.

“Nope, no husband, just me.”

“Ahh, I’m sorry.”

Rose had been telling people for years that she was a widow, ever since she settled in Ferelden shortly before Ivy’s birth. But here in Haven, openly a mage who had all but admitted to the Seeker she had spent time in a Circle, her cover story looked weaker and weaker.

 _Just don’t tell them too many details_ , she thought, _they have no reason to pry. We’re all apostates now, Circle mage or no_. _I can use magic whenever I want._

Rose shifted the sack in her arms and smiled at Mari who was patting the stubble on the Commander’s cheek. “Nothing to be sorry about. I think you’ve got a fan, Commander.”

“Tullen,” said Mari firmly.

The Commander gingerly settled the toddler more securely in his arms. “Yes, she’s… nice. A very nice, ah, child.”

Mari rested her head on the front edge of the fur ruff the Commander had around his neck and yawned. “Nice. Nice Tullen,” she said sleepily.

They walked back through the mud towards the refugee tents, the two women carrying the sacks and Commander Cullen with Mari, who had fallen asleep and was drooling on his mantle. Daven and Ivy ran giggling ahead of them, playing a game Rose gathered involved being goats fleeing from ravenous wolves, with the adults seemingly cast as wolves.

There was small posse of ragged children on the edge of the area.

Daven looked longingly at the group. “Can we play with them, Mama Rose? I’ll make sure Ivy doesn’t get into trouble.”

“Yes, that’s fine. Keep an eye on the sun and come find me in an hour or so.”

Daven nodded and grabbed Ivy’s hand. They ran giggling off to the knot of children.

“Just through here,” said Captain Reeves, nodding towards the edge of the settlement. “I’ll show you which one, then I need to go and fetch Valerie, the woman I mentioned earlier.”

The tent was small, but it was shelter and no-one was actively trying to kill them, so it was more than enough for their needs. Rose looked up at the sky. It was hard to judge with the breach taking up so much space, but by Rose’s reckoning it was mid-afternoon. Mari could probably manage a nap now without keeping them up all night.

“If you could give me a moment,” she said to the Commander, who was clutching the sleeping Mari and swaying a little, the way people instinctively did when holding very small children. “I’ll warm the tent and then you can put her down.”

Rose didn’t wait for his response before she crouched down and put her hand on the ground outside the tent. She’d reached Enchanter rank before her escape from the Circle, and taught healing skills to the Apprentices, but frost spells were also a strength of hers. Concentrating on the frozen ground beneath the tent, she moved the water deeper into the ground to solidify the mud, and then encouraged a tendril of fire into the now dry ground to warm it above freezing.

“Apostate.” Rose heard the Commander breathe the word. She didn’t like his tone.

“Earlier I offered to clear up any regrettable chafing you might have,” said Rose, folding a blanket into quarters and not making eye contact with the man looming above her. “I’m not sure how else I am supposed to do it other than magic. I’m not carrying any herbal emulsions on me and kissing it better doesn’t generally work.”

Mari stirred, and the Commander held her closer. He was less awkward holding the toddler now he wasn’t thinking about it.

He huffed a sigh. “Mages are welcome in the Inquisition. Are you Circle trained?”

“I…” Rose paused for several seconds. “Yes, I was. I’m sure there are plenty of other escapees around. There is nothing special about me.”

He dipped his head in acknowledgement. “More escapees than the Templar Order cared to admit, certainly.”

Rose stood up, held the tent flap open and looked at him. “I’ve taken the chill off the ground and she should be comfortable on the blanket for an hour or so sleep.”

Commander Cullen gently shifted the toddler from his shoulder and onto the makeshift bed. She murmured in her sleep but didn’t awaken. Messere Fluffy appeared, chirped an acknowledgement of Rose and went into the tent, curling up against Mari.

Rose fiddled with the edge of a sack. “Well, thank you for your assistance.”

“You are quite welcome.” The Commander was rubbing the back of his neck. “I, ah, should take my leave and get back to my troops. You and that enormous cat seem to have things well in hand. I apologise again for mistaking your intentions with your belongings.”

Rose shrugged. “You were doing your job. They’ve got me starting medical work tomorrow, so I’ll be around for all your chafing needs.”

He gave her disarming smile. “I’ll keep that in mind. Farewell.”

Rose watched the Commander stride away, pausing to raise a hand in acknowledgement as Ivy waved at him from amidst the crowd of children climbing trees on the edge of the road.

Captain Reeves came back over, with a young elven woman in tow. She was about a head shorter than Rose, with an impressive mop of curly bright red hair that she’d attempted to restrain in a braid. “Mistress Rose, this is Valerie. She’s willing to help you with your childcare. The Inquisition will take care of her stipend while she is working for you.”

Rose shook Valerie’s hand. “Pleased to meet you. I appreciate your willingness to help me out.”

Valerie gave her a friendly smile. “Pleased to meet you too, Mistress Rose. The good Captain here mentioned they were short of healers so I’m happy to take care of the children and help you out.”

“I knew Valerie back in Denerim,” Captain Reeves said. “I did some work as a guard in the Alienage there, so I can vouch for her character.”

Valerie nodded enthusiastically. “I’m the oldest in my family so I have loads of experience looking after little ones.”

“Why did you leave Denerim?” said Rose, frowning. “Ah, if you don’t mind me asking, that is? I hear it’s safe there compared to, well, everywhere else.”

“My Mam wanted me to marry a local lad, the son of her best friend. I didn’t want to because he was creepy, so I left.” Valerie shrugged fatalistically. “Ended up in the middle of the war and now here. I was helping Master Aldwin teach the little ones their letters, but the advisors want the mage apprentices to do that job to keep them busy. So here I am.”

Rose considered her words. “Alright. If you could come early tomorrow to collect Mari that would be wonderful.”

“Don’t you worry Mistress Rose, we’ll have a lovely time.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, lovely readers, for all your comments and kudos! Your comments always make me smile :D
> 
> I'm not sure how much I'll be able to update for the next 3 weeks as we are going away on holiday just after Xmas. I'm taking my laptop with me though, so hopefully I'll be able to get something written!
> 
> I hope you all have a wonderful festive season <3

An eerie green light bathed the Crossroads, dappling over the bodies scattered like ragdolls all around her. The air was ripe with the distinctive smell of burning human flesh. There were cold metal undertones of blood spilled by steel and flesh rent by magic, but over it all the sweet odour of sizzling skin.

Rose didn’t look at the bodies. She’d seen them before, enough times to recognise them.

“You are being most impolite,” said the man standing beside her.

Rose gave a sidelong glace at the demon wearing her father’s face. “Kindly fuck off,” she said mildly.

He made an exaggerated grimace of outrage. “That really is no way to speak to your father, regardless of his rank.”

“Fuck. Off.”

Faster than a snake, the demon had her pinned by her throat to the wall of the nearest house. The burning stench grew stronger and her stomach roiled. Rose scrabbled for her magic, but nothing was there. His anger was surprising, normally these conversations took far longer to bring his wrath upon her.

“Murderess. Shame of your House,” he hissed in her ear.

She barked a bitter laugh. “Tell me something I don’t know, demon.”

He leaned towards her and put his lips against her ear. His fetid breath wafted across her face. “You don’t know that sometimes I see your daughter here in the Fade. I wonder what she would think about talking to her Grandpapa.”

Rose struggled wildly against his iron grip. She lashed out with her hand, gouging bloody furrows down his face with her fingernails. He roared with rage.

“I will fuck you bloody for that,” he snarled.

She tried to attack him again, but the Crossroads dissolved in front of her.

Rose opened her eyes to see the worried face of Daven in the low light of pre-dawn, shaking her shoulder.

“You were having another nightmare,” whispered the boy, “I was worried about you.”

Rose’s heart raced, she heard it thrumming in her ears. She swallowed hard, forcing a smile onto her face. “Thank you, Daven. I told the demon to go away, as mages should always do, and you woke me so now everything is fine. Try to get a little more sleep, I won’t have any more nightmares now.”

He gave her a little smile. “Okay, Rose.” He moved back to his pallet beside Mari and Messere Fluffy, and soon his even breathing let Rose know he’d drifted off again.

She stared at the top of the tent and didn’t go back to sleep.

 

***

 

“And please make sure she drinks her milk,” Rose said as she checked that her medical instruments were in good order. She glanced over her shoulder at Valerie, who was standing in the doorway of their tent, fiddling with her bright orange braid.

The elven woman smiled and held out her hand to Mari. “She’ll be fine, Mistress Rose, we’ll have a lovely time, won’t we?”

Mari looked up from vigorously patting Messere Fluffy, who was sprawled on his back on the nest of blankets where Mari had slept. “Fuff Fuff?”

“Yes, Messere Fluffy can come with us too, while Mama Rose is working. Would you like to visit the goats?”

Mari brightened considerably. “Yes! Buh bye Ro’.”

She toddled over to Valerie and grabbed her hand, dragging her out of the tent, with Messere Fluffy hot on their heels.

Rose laughed and waved to them. “Bye sweetling.”

She gathered up the last of the supplies, stifled a yawn and made her way through the refugee camp towards Haven proper.

In a clearing beyond the tents a knot of refugee children that included Daven and Ivy clustered around an elderly man, who was reading to them from a heavy tome. Aldwin’s husband had been a chantry scholar from the University of Orlais who’d been killed at the Conclave. Aldwin had been dealing with his grief through teaching the children of Haven, offering the gift of education to all who wanted it, regardless of race or station. There was an assortment of teenagers wearing mage robes around the edges of the group, showing some younger children how to form their letters on scraps of parchment. Rose had a pang of sadness for the apprentices, who should still have been in lessons themselves. In another life, with another name, Rose was one of the people teaching them.

She continued her walk around the outside of Haven, through the main gates and across the village. The residents here looked well cared for and productive, for the most part. She bid a hasty good morning to Solas, who was loitering outside his cabin and giving her a long look like he knew exactly what always happened in her dreams. She checked the scrawled, hand-drawn map Captain Reeves had given her to make sure she had the correct location and knocked on the door of the apothecary’s workroom.

“Enter,” said a terse voice.

Rose assumed what she hoped was a professional yet caring facial expression and entered the cabin. “Good morning, I’m Rose, the new healer. Captain Reeves mentioned I was to report to you?”

The man she assumed was Adan was bent over a bench in the corner of the cabin. He turned about to look at her and shrugged. “That meddling woman and her infernal ledger. Do what you like, I’m an alchemist, not a real healer. I’m told you have plenty of experience, so you can work it out.”

Rose blinked at the unexpectedly indifferent response. “Alright then. Well I can check over the patients in the infirmary, since from what I gather none of your mages are specialist healers?”

Adan nodded and kept stirring his potion.

“Okay. Ahh, first I want to prepare a soothing cream for the Herald, might you direct me to your embrium supplies?”

“I’ll fetch it,” Adan said shortly. “I have a system in the storeroom and don’t like other people in there.”

Rose nodded slowly, resolutely keeping the pleasant expression on her face. “Yes, that would be great. Thank you.”

He abruptly left the cabin and Rose was left at a loss. She shook herself and began poking around the cupboard underneath the alchemy table looking for any useful supplies to purloin. There were some general healing potions, they were useful for stabilising acute patients and relieving pain. Restoration potions, only a few. Rose popped the top off one and sniffed it. Just the basic version, they would promote a small amount of faster healing and pain relief during procedures. Rose stuck her head right in the back of the cupboard and conjured a small mage light on the tip of her index finger, in order to see better.

“Ohh, fire protection potions, they’ll be useful if I need to cauterise wounds,” she muttered.

“What are you doing?” said a soft voice.

Rose yelped and jumped backwards, banging the back of her head on the edge of the alchemy table. She stood up then winced and rubbed it. The newcomer was an elven woman wearing mage robes and a slight frown.

“I’m Rose, I was recruited as a healer. I was looking for any supplies while I wait for Adan to come back.”

The woman relaxed and looked less suspicious. “I’m Minaeve, head creature researcher.”

“Oh, that sounds like an interesting job,” Rose said encouragingly. “Like being a physician, but with animals. I’m sure they complain a lot less than humans.”

The woman nodded gravely in agreement. “I prefer creatures when they are dead. Marginally less faeces. But I do work with live samples when required.”

A memory of the bodies from this morning’s dream floated up unbidden into Rose’s thoughts. She swiftly touched the bench beside her to centre herself.

_I am here in the apothecary cabin, talking to a woman called Minaeve, and I am safe._

“Ahh, that still sounds fascinating.” Rose’s voice was steady. “A solid knowledge of anatomy is a skill many dismiss, but that I find crucial in treating patients.”

Minaeve looked much livelier at the turn the discussion had taken. “And for fighting dangerous creatures! If you understand their physical structure, you can understand how to inflict injuries, or not, as needed.”

Rose knelt back down and began pulling fire protection potions out of the cupboard, speaking over her shoulder. “Hurting and healing are certainly two sides of the same copper.”

Minaeve hummed an enthusiastic concurrence. “Actually, I wonder if you’d be interested in reading my theories on using spiders silk for wound care? Adan isn’t bothered but I think it has potential to be useful for the field.”

“To cover the wound.” Rose idly swirled one of the potions around the bottle while she considered this. “That sounds interesting, especially for situations without a magical healer.”

“Which is most situations,” said the other woman.

Rose nodded, and stood up, adding her new potions to the collection she’d already gathered. “Indeed. I’d like to read that. You could send someone to bring it here, or to the infirmary.”

“I’ll do that.”

Adan stumped back in the cabin holding a handful of dried green flowers with orange centres. He thrust them at Rose.

“Ahh perfect, thank you Adan. I’ll bid you both farewell, I need to get on to this. It was nice meeting you.” Rose made a hasty retreat with both the flowers and the potions before Adan could respond to what she’d taken. She had the feeling he’d be less than impressed.

 

***

 

Rose hung the pot of walnut oil packed with spindleweed over the cooking fire, then carefully balanced the pot of water packed with embrium beside it. She sat beside the fire and watched the people of Haven go about their daily tasks. Every so often she pushed the sweaty tendrils of hair off her face and coughed from a gust of smoke that blew in her face.

Varric wandered over, looking intrigued. “Healer, I was just thinking about you, wondering how you and your menagerie were settling in. Don’t tell me, are you our new cook now?”

“Hah. I’m making the Herald’s as… um, soothing cream.” Rose stood up and stirred the pots, wafting the steam towards her nose to check the concentration.

“I feel like this is a story I’ve missed out on.”

“Just for her hand. The mark is a little uncomfortable for her.” Rose made a sound of satisfaction and removed the water infusion from the fire, carefully pouring it into a container to cool a little. She repeated the process with the oil.

“The weird green shit under her skin? Yeah, I’m not surprised.” Varric watched her work. “But you are doing this without magic?”

“I don’t have the control needed with the fire element.” Rose knelt, stirring the pots again. “I could probably cool them down just fine, but I like to let it happen naturally. This is what I’m used to.”

Varric peered at her consideringly. “It’s quite a story you have, an apostate rejecting their magic to work as a healer and save orphans.”

Rose stared at the pots, avoiding eye contact with the dwarf. “It’s less interesting than what you are thinking. Anyone would have done what I did.”

“I was in the Hinterlands, Healer. It was a shitstorm of every person for themselves. I saw a lot of children’s bodies.” His voice sounded bleak.

Rose shifted uncomfortably. “Honestly Varric? I should have saved more. Should have tried harder.”

“Marian Hawke once said the same thing to me. Have you heard what happened in Kirkwall?”

“Only in the vaguest terms from local gossip, an apostate blowing up the Chantry and issues with blood mages.”

Varric nodded. “Hawke despaired of other mages turning to blood magic and being abominations. She always thought she should have done something more, something better. I always had to remind her she did what she could. Even small things can change the world, one person saved, one person helped.”

Rose gingerly touched the side of the water container, then dipped her finger in to test the temperature. “I’m happy I helped Daven and Mari, of course, but it’s hard to reconcile two lives against so many.” She pulled a square of thin cloth out of her bag and positioned it over the lid of a third container. “Can you hold this?”

Varric held the cloth in place as Rose poured the infused oil mixture over it. “Yeah, well, Hawke would always tell me to shut the fuck up whenever I tried to console her. And I’m quoting her there. I was right though, all you can do is what you are able to do. Don’t twist yourself up with what might have been.”

Rose did the same with the water mixture, adding it to the container with the oil. She retrieved a whisk from her bag and began vigorously beating the contents. “Why did you get out of Kirkwall?”

“Actually,” said the dwarf, sounding amused, “the lovely Seeker dragged me out of there when she and Curly, Commander Cullen, left Kirkwall.”

“Maker’s balls, I knew I’d heard his name before. The Kirkwall Circle was notorious.” Rose frowned and held up the whisk to check the viscosity of the emulsion.

_Too runny. So the Commander is from Kirkwall. Shame, he seemed decent enough for a templar. Former templar. Mari was very taken with him._

Varric nodded and leaned forward to examine the contents of the container. “Whatever you heard was probably true. He came good in the end though, siding with Hawke to help defeat Meredith, and trying to restore order in Kirkwall after the Chantry explosion.”

Rose kept aggressively whisking. “So that one act makes it okay that he was complicit in the mistreatment of mages for years?”

“From what I’ve seen, he’s a different man now than he was there. You can’t change the past, you can only try to do better.”

_The sound Rowan made when the sword pierced his lungs was the tiniest gasp. A far smaller sound than I’d ever imagined my brash loud brother making._

Rose inclined her head in reluctant agreement. “That is true.”

 

***

 

Della Cadash was standing beside Commander Cullen at the edge of the training grounds, rolling one of her daggers over her fingers while she talked to him. She smiled broadly when Rose walked up to them. “And here’s my favourite newest member of the Inquisition. Did you know, Rose, that some templars take vows of celibacy, but not Commander Cullen here.”

Rose set her bag on the ground and rummaged around for the pot of lotion. “Well good for you, Commander. If you catch anything from the camp followers, please do come and see me. I have a variety of solutions for all kinds of venereal diseases.”

The tall man looked horrified. “I don’t… I haven’t…”

The Herald of Andraste nodded enthusiastically and patted the Commander’s arm. “No judgement here, don’t you worry. I’m partial to a night of wild fucking myself. Great stress reliever.”

Rose covered her laugh behind a cough. “I am also accomplished in making witherstalk contraceptive potions, Herald.”

“Sadly, there is no one here who has caught my eye.” She looked up at the Breach and grimaced. “A great shame since the whole Herald clusterfuck is very stressful.”

Rose nodded sympathetically. “Oh, well, that’s certainly unfortunate.”

“Yes it is. Sorry Commander you’re just not hairy enough for my tastes.” Della paused and looked between Rose and Commander Cullen. “Hey, you two should fuck. You’re both human. You both look like you could do with some relaxation…”

The Commander wore the despairing expression of someone who’d already been having an embarrassing chat with a holy figure in their religion, only to have that person turn around and propose they have sex with an apostate they’d only known for a day.

“Ahh, no thanks, I’m fine,” Rose said smoothly.

“Maker’s. Breath,” Commander Cullen wheezed out. “Can we talk about something else?”

Della clapped him firmly on the back. “Of course.” She spied the container Rose was holding. “Oh you’ve bought me the ass cream. Thank you. How is it best applied?”

Rose opened the lid. “Here, I can show you.”

The Commander squeaked and looked wildly around for a potential escape route.

Rose grinned at him and took the Herald’s hand. She took a large glob of the cream and gently smeared it over the irritated skin of the glowing mark. “Make the covering nice and thick. For both hands and bottoms.”

Della laughed and wiggled her fingers experimentally. “Thank you, Mistress Rose. It seems better already.”

Rose examined the Herald’s hand again. “Can I use a little magic on it?”

Out of the corner of her eye she thought the Commander twitched slightly.

Della shrugged carelessly. “Sure.”

Rose used her fingertip to draw a tiny ice glyph in the cream on the dwarf’s hand. She tapped it to activate the magic and watched as the emulsion froze, cooling down the irritated skin.

“That’s very clever,” said the other woman. She regarded Rose. “You really didn’t use your magic for all those years?”

“Only in emergencies,” said Rose, thinking about Mother Giselle’s admonitions about her time in the Crossroads. “I had no particular desire to be imprisoned again.”

“What Circle were you in?” Commander Cullen asked curiously.

“What does it matter now?” Rose replied, forcing her voice to be calm and even. “They’ve all been dissolved. I’m here as a physician, not a criminal.”

“And so you are,” said Della, patting Rose’s hand. “We appreciate your help.”

The Commander made a vague grunt of agreement.

“Anyway, I need to go to the infirmary. I told Adan I wouldn’t be long on this errand.

“Well, thank you again. And, ah, good luck with Nurse Kalara.”

 

***

 

The infirmary was a large, drafty building. Rose had been half expecting another tent packed full of Haven’s sick, so at least they had a roof protecting them from the weather.

A white haired dwarven woman greeted her with the force of a gale whipping over the Waking Sea. “Human woman, brown hair and blue eyes? A bit skinny. Looks tired. You must be the new healer! Very pleased to meet you. Kalara Koras is my name. Formally of Orzammar. I’ve been on the surface oh nigh on fifty years now. I’m the head nurse here. Very familiar with human and elf physiology. Not only dwarf. So don’t you worry about me.”

 Rose took an involuntary step backwards from the tide of Kalara’s words. She recovered herself then held out a cautious hand towards the elderly woman, who beamed at her and shook it. “Lovely to meet you Kalara, I’m Rose. If you aren’t busy, would you mind acquainting me with the facilities and patients?”

“I would like nothing more. I’m pleased with our facilities. We could always use more supplies. Ancestors bless us, isn’t that always the way?” She ushered Rose further into the large room lined with cots. “We mostly have training injuries. The usual social diseases. Always get those with an Army. Foot complaints. We do have a pregnancy at the moment.”

She led Rose to one of the bed where a frail woman who didn’t appear much older than a teenager lay.

“This is Aalidis Gaume. She followed her man here. He’s joined the Inquisition army. She’s been having the birthing pains. Intermittently. But it’s too early for the babe to be born.”

“My Alec, he’s a soldier. We walked all the way from Calensfort to join the Inquisition,” said Aalidis, her hand gently resting on her belly. “I didn’t realise I was with child until we were caught up in the conflict around the Hinterlands and I caught the frost cough. Nurse Kalara said that might be the cause of my troubles with the babe.”

“Do you mind if I examine you?” The woman nodded. Rose gently lifted her tunic, smiling reassuringly. The pregnant woman was painfully thin, the jut of her ribs and hips contrasting sharply with the roundness of her belly. She began to palpate Aalidis’s belly, checking for the position and size of her womb and the babe. “You’ve been with child for about 7 months?” Rose asked.

“Yes, that is about when I had my last moon blood.”

There was a fluttering sensation under Rose’s hand. “He’s got a fine kick.”

Aalidis looked proud. “He’s strong, like his father. Did you use magic on me?”

Rose pulled down Aalidis’s tunic, then pressed her ear to the woman’s belly. “I didn’t need to this time. There is nothing I could do magically right now that wouldn’t be better served by mundane means.”

She clutched Rose’s hand and looked at her imploringly. “But you’re a mage healer, so you can save him? I’m sure it’s a little boy.”

“I’ll do everything I can, I promise.” Rose knew not to make promises to patients but something about this young woman reminded her of when she was pregnant with Ivy, alone and scared.

Aalidis looked relieved. “Thank you.”

Rose leaned forward to check the patient’s eyes and mouth. “Have you been eating much meat since you came to Haven?”

“A little. We got so used to not having enough food, I just don’t get hungry anymore.”

“Okay. I want you to eat extra meat and fruit please. Your humours are running cold and dry and you’ll have an excess of black bile. I’ll make sure your food allotment here in the infirmary is increased, and we’ll get you some foxmint to chew on to help settle your stomach. It’s very important for the baby that you eat enough.”

Rose patted Aalidis’s hand reassuringly and went to confer with Kalara in a small storeroom off the side of the ward.  

“Have you given her any gurgut bile to balance her humours?” Rose looked around the room to see what preparations they had in stock.

Kalara nodded and patted a large jar of slimy brown mixture. “Yes. I need to requisition some more though. It’s very useful. Tastes like nug that’s been dead for a week. More palatable with honey.”

“Continue that in a weak solution with boiled water.” Rose squinted in thought. “Add some powdered elfroot too, it can’t hurt.”

Kalara checked another jar nearby, which was nearly empty. “Yes Healer. I’ll requisition more of that too.”

Rose spotted a bottle of black lotus paste and stashed it in her pocket. “Good. The babe is very small as well, we need to make sure she gets plenty of food.”

“Agreed. I’m concerned about the baby. But sometimes nature takes its course.”

Rose sighed and nodded. “Yes, but not if I can help it. Anyway, let’s continue our rounds.”

She had just finished stitching up a sword slash wound, sending a tiny pulse of energy to promote the healing process when two soldiers walked into the building, looking a little sheepish.

“If you can dress the wound, I’ll see these patients, Kalara.”

The dwarven woman nodded and Rose got up to greet the men. “How can I help you?”

“I’m Lieutenant Percy Hurst. I’ve a burning…” the soldier paused and looked around, and lowered his voice, “…a burning when I piss, Healer, and my bollocks are mighty sore.”

His friend leaned in. “He’s regular with the camp followers, Mistress Healer. I keep telling him to lay off, but he’s a randy bugger.”

The first man scowled. “Shut it, Fred. This is serious.”

“I’m just saying, if you insist on swiving half of…”

“Okay, thank you.” Rose interrupted the men. “Well Lieutenant, I need you to drop your pants. Here or in the storeroom if you require privacy.”

The young man grimaced, then undid his breeches and pushed them down to his knees.

She sat down and eyed him critically.

“Maker’s cock, Percy, you are hung like a druffalo.” Fred’s voice was awestruck.

Rose adopted the tone of voice she used on recalcitrant children. “Fred, is it? Do you need me to give you a candied apple and send you to sit quietly in the corner until you are calm?”

Fred shuffled his feet awkwardly. “No ma’am.”

Rose leaned back in her chair and looked up at the Lieutenant’s face. “Excellent, now then…”

He had a beseeching expression. “I’ve been asking Andraste to intercede, but it never happens.”

“I don’t think Andraste heals the clap, Lieutenant Hurst, but I can give you a potion for that. And please invest in some Orlesian letters to protect yourself. I can put in a requisition for them if you are too embarrassed to do it yourself.” Rose narrowed her eyes. “In fact, I might do that anyway, we can make them available to all the soldiers.”

The Lieutenant nodded soberly, doing up his breeches.

“You’ve clearly got an excess of blood. You can balance out your sanguine tendencies by eating plenty of green vegetables and purple forest berries but otherwise you’ll be fine.” Rose smiled encouragingly.

“See, that wasn’t so bad. She didn’t even need to geld you,” Fred said, grinning at his friend.

“Alright, Nurse Kalara, can you please fetch a Silverite infused potion for Percy. Come back in two days, and for the love of the Maker, don’t have sex with anyone until your infection has cleared up and you have a prophylactic for protection.”

When the men had left, Kalara looked enquiringly at Rose. “You didn’t send him for Chantry counselling? I used to work for the Chantry. They liked to send soldiers away to pray. And discuss their life choices.”

Rose made a face. “Chantry counselling for a venereal disease? Shame never healed anyone, Nurse Kalara.”

The other woman nodded approvingly. “And don’t I know it. You do good work Healer. The Inquisition is lucky to have you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case it wasn't clear from the context and you didn't know the terms:
> 
> 'the clap' is an old fashioned term for gonorrhoea  
> 'Orlesian letters' = 'French letters' which are an early type of condom, usually made from animal gut  
> 'social disease' refers to sexually transmitted diseases


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still on holiday (we fly home in 3 days) but I wrangled some free time today so was able to finish this chapter :-)

A week after arriving in Haven Rose resumed her usual dawn weapons practice that she’d had to stop when they fled their farm. She bundled up the three children in their warmest clothes to combat the early morning chill of Haven and led them to the stables.

“Ser Betsy is much more fatter, Mama.” Ivy bent sideways, assessing the size of Ser Betsy’s belly.

Rose patted the nanny goat. “Yes, that’s the baby in her tummy. A new little goat friend will be fun!”

“Blehhh,” said Ser Betsy and craned her head to stare vacantly at Ivy.

“Okay, follow me everyone,” Rose said briskly. “Are the goats on their ropes?”

“Yes, Mama Rose,” said Daven holding up two ropes. Jonty gave him an affectionate head butt, causing the slightly built elven boy to stagger sideways.

The procession of people and goats made their way to the training grounds, where Rose located a clump of large rocks for the children to sit on a short distance from the training dummy.

“Have you all got your apples?” Rose spread a blanket over the top of the rocks.

The three children all held up an apple each. Mari’s already had small teeth marks all over it.

“And extra for the goats?”

Daven patted his bulging pockets. “Yes, right here.”

“Okay, I need you all to either sit nicely on the rocks or be with the goats beside the rocks. Does everyone understand?”

“Yes, Mama Rose.” Daven’s voice was earnest.

“Yes Mama,” said Ivy, embracing Ser Betsy’s belly.

“Puss puss,” said Mari, grinning and pointing at one of the local cats streaking past, with Messere Fluffy in hot pursuit.

Rose looked between the training area and the huddle of children and goats. “And remember, if you need my attention, call out, don’t come to the training dummy. It’s too dangerous with people doing weapons training. And if Mari tries to walk off, keep hold of the back of her clothing to stop her.”

“We’re okay Rose, we’ll be fine while you train. It’ll be just like back at your cabin,” Daven said, smiling at her reassuringly.

Rose huffed, watching her breath cloud in the cold air. “Alright, well I’ll be right over here.”

She hefted her quarterstaff and strode over to a dummy on the nearest area to the children. She pulled her heavy leather gloves on and focused herself on her warm up routine, pausing every few minutes to glance over at her little charges.

_The Dummy is Father._ Whack.

_It is Knight-Commander Hughes._ Whack.

_It’s Martin_. Whack.

_It’s that fucking Pride Demon_. Whack.

Rose looked up when she heard laughter, but it was just Mari and Ivy chasing Messere Fluffy around the goats. She hefted her weapon to hit the dummy again, but stopped as Commander Cullen came into view.

“Unusual to see a mage practicing with mundane weaponry, especially one who specialises as a healer. Do you not have a mage staff?” The rising sun backlit his golden hair, giving him an appealingly other-worldly glow.

Rose ruthlessly supressed that thought and wiped her sweaty forehead with her arm.

“I’ve found that people who are happy to hurt children are usually unwilling to listen when I use my words instead of weapons. And magic was always out of the question.” She fixed him with a scowl. “Or do you think I should instead wait around for the nearest strong man to save us? Because we might be waiting a very long time.”

He blinked and looked surprised. “I said unusual, not unwelcome. You must be competent to have survived for so long.”

“We’ll not be an easy target for crazed killers who delight in fucking all things up for all people.” Rose took a short swing at the dummy. “And this staff is magical, after a fashion, but I don’t often use it as such.”

He looked intrigued. “You don’t need it as a focus?”

“As you said, I’m a healer. I can focus through my hands for most things.” Rose held up her hands and waggled her fingers at him. “Anyway, I am safer being able to defend myself through non-magical means.”

“A wise precaution,” he said, nodding slowly.

Rose planted her quarterstaff on the ground and leaned on it, looking over at the children. Mari was staring avidly at the Commander, straining against Daven’s grip on her coat and windmilling her arms. Daven was holding Mari with one hand and was feeding Jonty an apple with the other. Ivy had smeared her face with mud and was performing a kind of ritual around Ser Betsy that seemed to involve dancing and throwing handfuls of leaves.

Commander Cullen followed her gaze. “Are they alright over there?”

“Not used to children, Commander?” Rose grinned at him. “They are fine. No one is crying, and no one is bleeding. Everything is under control.”

“I have nieces and nephews with my family in South Reach, but I’ve never seen them. And, Healer, you can call me Cullen.”

Looking at him, Rose had the reflexive urge to grasp her magic in case she needed to defend herself. It was the same instinct she’d experienced around any templar, long before she fled Ostwick Circle. She suppressed the impulse. There was something different about the Commander of the Inquisition forces, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. He felt different, somehow.

_He’s nice to look at_ , said her traitorous thoughts.

_Yes_ , she replied to that train of thought, _people can be nice to look at until they want to kill you_.

The Commander was looking quizzical and Rose realised she’d been frowning at him again.

“Oh. Right. Ah, you can call me Rose.”

Rose glanced over at the children again. Ivy was attempting to share her apple with Ser Betsy. When she looked back, the Commander’s gaze was still upon her. She couldn’t quite read his expression.

“Was there something you wanted, Com… Cullen?” she said, more sharply than she intended. “Do you need healing for something? Any rashes I can assist with?”

He cleared his throat and looked abashed. “Threnn told me you ordered a large supply of, um, Orlesian letters?”

Rose narrowed her eyes. “Yes? I was under the impression that I could order any supplies I deemed necessary?”

“Do you need quite so many? She’s concerned about the cost. In both gold and morals.” He was rubbing the back of his neck.

Rose raised an eyebrow at him. “Quite so many? They aren’t for me, Cullen. Venereal diseases are rife amongst the soldiers, and a sheath over the penis provides an excellent level of protection. Surely living in a Circle would have given you a clear understanding of what people do with each other when confined in close quarters during a tense situation?”

His ears and cheeks were bright red.

Rose looked at him, then frowned and stepped closer to peer at his face. “Maker’s balls, are you well? You’re very flushed, do you need to sit down?” Rose pulled her glove off with her teeth and reached up to feel his forehead, spitting the glove into her other hand. “You might have an excess of blood unbalancing your humours. Should I be discussing the army’s sexual health with Knight-Captain Rylen instead?”

He stepped back from her scrutiny and grimaced. “I am perfectly well and capable of discussing… that. Maker’s breath the Herald is always asking the most impertinent questions, so I’m used to it. And yes, it did happen at the Circles but only to a minor degree.”

Rose tipped her head back and laughed. Daven looked over at her around Ser Betsy and she waved reassuringly to him. “That’s because the mages took care of their own. Circles were hotbeds of sexual intrigue. Nothing minor about it.”

“Well be that as it may, this is an army, not a Circle.”

“Yes, and I thank the Maker for that, but there are a great many camp followers and the resultant health issues.” Rose gestured emphatically towards where the bulk of the army camped, then pulled her glove back on. “I was going to give the camp followers a supply of potions and some sheaths to ensure they have more control over the situation themselves, but I would prefer a two-pronged approach to the issue through both, ah, parties.”

The Commander gave her a nod. “Very well, I’ll make sure the requisition goes through with all due haste.”

Rose was taken aback, expecting a lengthy discussion. “Just like that?”

“You make a reasonable argument, Rose.” He paused and looked her up and down. “And your footwork was wrong.”

Rose looked down at her feet. “My weapons training wasn’t exactly templar standard, Commander. You know the Circle frowns upon us learning even basic weapon skills. Anyway, magical self-defence was all they taught me.”

“How did you learn to use the quarterstaff without magic?”

“A local farmer, Jamet, gave me lessons for the first few years after I arrived in the Hinterlands. I started when I was pregnant with Ivy.” Rose laughed ruefully at the memory of herself, alone and scared with a babe in her belly hitting the patient elven farmer with a length of roughhewn wood. “He was fairly skilled at it. He was digging on his farm when templars mistook his shovel for a mage staff and killed him. They even took his wedding ring in case it was a magical artefact. It devastated his wife Maura.”

Cullen shook his head. “That is why the Inquisition is so crucial to the peace efforts. And why the templars need a focus, to be the ones to help close the Breach. We need to stop both sides from committing any more atrocities. I can only hope the Herald proves successful on her mission to Val Royeaux.”

The prospect of legions of templars descending upon her sanctuary was about as appealing as a room full of patients with liquid bowels. To avoid commenting on that fact, Rose stood in front of the dummy and gave it a jab with her staff. “I want to do Jamet proud, even if I wasn’t always the best student.”

She gave the man a sidelong glance. He was looking at her speculatively again. “A moment, please,” he said, walking over to a weapons rack and coming back twirling a staff.

“You can use a staff?” Rose said, surprised.

“I am proficient in most standard weapons. Knowing how to use a staff is useful.”

_Against mages, of course_ , she thought.

Cullen stood with his feet apart, holding the stave with his left hand near the bottom of it and his right hand a fourth of the way up the wood. Rose looked him up and down, then settled into her own fighting stance, a mirror of his.

“Attack me, Healer, but don’t use magic.”

Rose snorted. “I managed without magic for a long time, I’m sure I can refrain from turning you into a block of ice if you piss me off.”

He regarded her levelly but said nothing. She squeezed the staff with her gloved hands, then darted towards him, swinging an attack. She aimed at his bottom hand with the tip of her staff, which he dodged, followed up with a jab at his top hand, which he avoided and then aimed a swing at his neck, which he ducked.

“Again,” he snapped at her, “but faster, and keep your front foot pointed towards me.”

Contrary to her previous confidence, the song of her magic was increasing in tempo in her head, and her hand twitched with the desire to cast a handful of snow into Cullen’s calm face. She mentally pushed that to the back of her mind and repeated her previous moves, mindful of her feet.

“Again,” Cullen said, “and you’re smaller than me so you need to be much faster.”

Rose repeated the move over and over until her arms were aching.

Cullen have her a single nod. “Better. Now defend yourself.” Fast as a greased nug he launched into an attack.

Rose reflexively bought her staff up to combat him. Laughter from the children distracted her, and she didn’t move fast enough, Cullen’s quarterstaff catching her on the lip and splitting it.

“Fuck,” she muttered, and turned her back so the children couldn’t see the blood.

The Commander leaned his staff against the nearby training dummy, then retrieved a clean, folded handkerchief from his pocket and wordlessly handed it to her. She mumbled a thank you and held it to her mouth, grasping her magic as she did so. Rose thought she saw a flash of fear in Cullen’s eyes as she looked up at him.

“If you are concerned I’m going to spurt magic all over the place, you could always Silence me. It wouldn’t be very friendly of you, but you have that option.” Rose touched her fingertips to her lip and sent a trickle of healing to stop the bleeding.

“That life is behind me and I prefer to avoid magic.” Cullen waited for her to wipe the blood off her face and tuck the soiled handkerchief down her shirt. “Defend yourself.”

He took hold of the quarterstaff again and swung at her.

She leaned out of the way and took a step backwards. “You’re in an organisation that claims to be pro-mage and you want to avoid magic?”

Cullen advanced towards her. “We’re training, not discussing my personal preferences.”

She caught his swing with her staff, but he spun around with his momentum and hit her in the ribs.  As she instinctively bent over, he hit her on the back causing her to crumple.

She hit the ground with a thump. Rose rolled onto her back and looked up at the breach menacing the sky above them.

There was a “Prrrp” from nearby, and suddenly a large weight landed on her chest. The vast brown and black form of Messere Fluffy stood proudly on her chest and leaned over her, rubbing his face against hers.

“Oof,” Rose wheezed, but raised a shaky hand to pat the loudly purring cat

Cullen’s face appeared in her field of view.

“Are you injured?” he raised an eyebrow

“It’s fine. I’m fine. Everything is fine. Messere Fluffy likes to help.” She pushed the reluctant cat off her chest and took the hand that the Commander was offering to help her up.

“You’re doing fairly well. However, I think you’re had enough for today.”

Rose stood up and leaned on her staff, wheezing heavily. “Maker’s balls, Commander, it doesn’t feel like I’m doing well.”

“I’m as proficient as anyone you’ll face and you’re still standing. Mostly.”

Rose rubbed the bruises on her ribs and winced. “That’s only because I don’t want my children to see me beaten to a pulp by an ex-templar,” she said wryly. “I feel like it would be bad for their morale. They are only just used to the idea of me openly doing magic.”

She gestured for the children to come over to her. Daven let go of the back of Mari’s top. The toddler let out an ear-piercing shriek of joy and ran towards them.

“I am out training early every morning if you would like to practice regularly. It was good to refresh my skills with the staff instead of the sword.”

“I…” Rose had a shiver of apprehension at the thought of regularly spending time with him.

_We are safe here. I’m allowed to be a mage and he won’t hurt me_.

“Ah, yes. That would be… fine. Thank you.”

Mari came to a halt in front of the Commander and held her arms up. “TULLEN,” she said, giving him a beatific smile.

Daven and the goats arrived shortly behind the toddler. Ivy was with them, cooing at Ser Betsy’s belly as they walked. There was an Ivy faceprint in mud on the side of the white nanny goat.  Daven looked at the dried smear of blood on Rose’s chin and turned a ferocious scowl in the direction of Cullen.

Rose scrubbed at it with her sleeve and nudged Daven. “Training mishaps happen, it’s okay.”

Cullen picked Mari up, with somewhat more confidence than when he had previously attempted the manoeuvre. She giggled and patted his hair.

Ivy pulled on the end of Cullen’s cloak. “Look,” she said, pointing to Ser Betsy who was staring into the middle distance. “Jonty gave Ser Betsy special cuddles and now there is a lovely cuddly little baby in her tummy.”

“Oh,” said the Commander, sound a little strangled because Mari had flung her arms around his neck and was squeezing. “Well that is, ah, very nice.”

“Mleehh,” said Jonty loudly.

“Mama, does special cuddles work with people?” Ivy blurted, giving Rose a gimlet eye.

Cullen made a startled “Eep” noise from behind Mari’s head.

“Thank you for the training,” said Rose, taking pity on him. She lifted Mari out of his arms and swung the little girl up on to her shoulders as a distraction. “Let’s go and get some breakfast, children. And, ah, we can discuss how people make babies as we walk.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was weirdly difficult to write, so here, take it off my hands for me *throws chapter and runs away*
> 
> I'd love to hear your opinions on the characters as I get my head around writing them, Rose and Herald Cadash in particular. I was intending Rose to be a darker, more angsty character than how she's turning out, though I have a few events planned that will take things a little more in that direction....

“It’s safe for you to leave the infirmary,” Rose said gruffly to Aalidis as she conjured a small flurry of cooling snowflakes over the woman’s swollen feet. “You’ve done well to carry the babe for this much longer, and every day you both are getting stronger. Just don’t overexert yourself.”

The pregnant woman beamed at Rose. “Thank you, Healer. You’ve all taken good care of me but it’s right boring being unable to do anything other than rest and eat.”

“Not much longer to wait now. Only a month or two and you’ll be holding your very own healthy baby.” Rose pulled Aalidis’s socks and footwear back on and helped the young woman to her feet.

The baby’s father, Alec, Rose dimly recalled his name being, was standing nearby, looking uncomfortable. He barely looked old enough to shave, though Aalidis had mentioned he was about twenty summers of age. Rose couldn’t remember him saying more than a handful of words since she’d been caring for his wife, though Aalidis made up for it by being usually quite chatty.

Rose gathered up the parchment she’d been keeping for notes and observations about Aalidis’s treatment. “Make sure you keep eating plenty of butter and lamb, you need to continue to direct your humours towards the sanguine. I’ll put in a requisition to ensure you get them.”

“Thank you Rose, I will,” said Aalidis, smiling still.

Alec gave Rose a hurried glace with thinly veiled hostility, then grabbed Aalidis by her skinny arm and hurried her out of the infirmary. Aalidis looked over her shoulder and gave an apologetic grimace. Rose frowned after them.

_Well that’s interesting. He doesn’t like me because I’m a mage? That I kept Aalidis here too long? Maybe he considers me a bad healer? He doesn’t like my hair? Who knows,_ she thought.

Kalara came scurrying over, interrupting Rose’s contemplation. Her white hair was coming out of its bun at the side. “I have concerns about an excess of yellow bile. Amongst the army.  All those young people. All that young people energy. Emotions running high. Begging for a surplus of choler.”

Rose walked towards the potion storage and preparation room. “I’ve discussing army matters with Commander Cullen on the mornings we train together, he hasn’t mentioned any extra fights or ill-discipline.”

“It’s just a theory. Like your Orlesian letters, better to prepare.” Kalara nodded enthusiastically to emphasise her point, dislodging more of her hair.

“All right, it doesn’t hurt to steer them away from undue influences of the spleen,” said Rose, filing her notes in the cabinet in the corner of the room. “I’ll suggest a nice shirtless run in the snow. No point resorting to potions before we have to.”

“Excellent idea Healer Rose. That will also raise morale. In those who get to watch.” The dwarven woman winked at Rose, then started tidying up shelves of the potions, giving Rose the occasional glace over her shoulder as she talked. “The extra gurgut bile still hasn’t arrived. I’m hoping the Seeker will bring supplies back from Val Royeaux for us.”

Rose checked the bottles of bile, wrinkling her nose at the lack. “I’m sure she will, she’s very efficient and won’t forget.”

“I agree. Oh, that reminds me. Captain Reeves dropped by. Before you arrived. Said there was a refugee health concern. Reports of an excess of gut itch.”

Rose made a noise of alarm. “Gut itch, that’s always vexing. Can you make up a supply of poultices for that? One of the other nurses could hand them out as needed, and check on living conditions at the same time. The facilities I’ve experienced seem sanitary enough, but it would be good to do an overall check.”

“I’ll prepare the spindleweed. Don’t tell Adan. He guards it with great intent.”

Rose looked at Kalara and gave a short laugh. “Don’t tell me, you’ve been in his herbal stores again? He accused my cat of chasing rats into there and messing up his system. Don’t worry, I didn’t tell him you’ve been getting herbs for our own potion making efforts. He’s sensitive about anyone other than himself making potions.”

The elderly dwarf assumed an expression of innocence, a glint in her eye. “I only swapped a few herbs around. Keeps Adan on his toes.”

“I’ll keep covering for you,” said Rose, smiling at the woman she’d come to consider her friend. “Messere Fluffy won’t mind taking the blame.”

“I’ll give him an extra fish. As thanks.” Kalara blew dust from the tops of the bottles on the lower shelves.

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate that, though I noticed he’s looking even fatter than usual.” Rose poked around the top shelves, tiding bottles Kalara couldn’t reach without a chair to stand on. “I’ve been reading Minaeve’s research on spider silk for wound care. Since things are quiet here, I was going to go and see if she can source a reliable supply for us. I asked Threnn, but she was horrified by the idea and refused to even consider it.”

Kalara nodded. “Everything is under control here. Don’t you worry.”

Rose helped Kalara finish tidying the potion supplies and then headed out into the crisp cold morning of Haven. Her life had changed so much in the past weeks, she’d hardly had a moment to herself to reflect and breathe. She walked slowly, taking in the bustle of people busy with their jobs, all avoiding looking too closely at the turbulent sky.

She passed a group of templars near the Chantry, outside Threnn’s requisitions tent, but they made no hostile moves toward her. Their armour reminded her uncomfortably of Martin.

_What would Martin think of me now? All bones and sagging skin with silver scars where my skin stretched to accommodate Ivy. I’m glad I don’t have a mirror because I’m sure there are bags under my eyes and my hair looks a fright. It’s not like we ever talked so I couldn’t appeal to him with my sparkling personality. Such as it is. Hah._

She took a deep breath of the fresh, cold air, trying to cleanse herself of the memories of him.

Sometimes, very occasionally, she even missed Martin. In the dead of night, when she was alone except for the soft breathing of sleeping children, she missed the cold metallic touch of his hands on her skin. He always wore his gauntlets and templar armour when he was with her, and she thought she would always associate the feel of metal on flesh with sex. The mental image of herself, robes hiked roughly up to her waist, pressed face down on his desk as he rutted into her flashed into her mind and she felt an unwelcome stab of arousal.

_Andraste’s sacred quim, it’s been so long since I’ve lain with anyone, I think I might be able to apply to reclaim my virginity back._

She chuckled at her own joke. A loud voice interrupted her thoughts. “Healer. A word, if you please.”

Rose banished thoughts of a carnal past in favour of the mundane present. She looked up and focused on the frowning Chantry Brother hurrying towards her. “Ah, Grand Chancellor Roderick. Is there something I can help you with? Are you in need of medical attention?”

He slowed to walk beside her. “That infirmary of yours is acting as a haven of sexual deviance and licentiousness,” he said without preamble.

Rose stopped and stared at him in disbelief. “I’m sorry, what?”

Roderick gave a loud huff, fixing her with a glare. “You heard me, Healer.”

Rose sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingertips, struggling to remain polite. “Well. Ah. That’s certainly a new one. I don’t suppose my assurances that we only practice legitimate medicine there would be of any interest?”

The Chantry brother’s voice rose in volume. “There is no reason to encourage deviancy.”

Rose narrowed her eyes and raised her voice to match his. “Maker’s balls, I’m sick of hearing about this. You’re all obsessed with talking about sex. I’ll be honest, it’s getting boring. Maybe people should focus on the giant tear in the sky? Please just let me do my job and stay out of my business.”

“You’re the one who started this!” Roderick yelled, advancing on her. “You encourage young men to strip naked in the infirmary and commit Maker knows what kind of unholy acts.”

“What the fuck? I don’t…” she began, indignantly.

“Grand Chancellor Roderick.” A familiar voice boomed across the courtyard. “Please tell me you were not harassing our Healer and causing another public disturbance.”

Commander Cullen came striding toward them from where he’d apparently been lurking outside the chantry, hand on the pommel of his sword, a slight scowl creasing his brow. He’d trained with her on several occasions since finding her whaling on the training dummy with her staff. Rose grudgingly admitted her footwork was improving, but their sessions still left her with a colourful variety of bruises. She actually reluctantly liked the man, he tended to treat her like a person with a job to do instead of an abomination waiting to happen. Unusual for a templar. Ex-templar.

The disturbing feeling of arousal came back with a jolt as she looked him up and down, dampening her anger and replacing it with alarm.

_Wait, shit. The fucking Commander? Oh, Maker’s giant testicles, no. Finding the ex-templar attractive would lead to nothing but trouble. It’s probably just an imbalance of humours caused by thinking about that bastard Martin and then getting into an argument with that officious prick Roderick_.

Rose took a steadying breath then forced herself to smile casually at Cullen. “The Grand Chancellor believes I’m running some kind of sex cult, from what I can gather.” She turned and raised a questioning eyebrow at Roderick. “I’m unsure what the details are, he hadn’t graced me with any.”

Cullen’s lips twitched upwards in a grin of genuine amusement. “I see. And are you?”

Rose smirked back at him. “Am I running a sex cult in the infirmary? Regrettably, no.”

Cullen looked at Roderick and assumed a professional expression. “Well there is your answer, Grand Chancellor,” he said briskly. “Healer Rose is using Haven’s Infirmary for therapeutic purposes only.”

“It’s funny, Grand Chancellor,” said Rose, watching the man puff up like a stranded porpoise left in the sun for too long. “I was just discussing the excess of choler and bile amongst Haven’s population with nurse Kalara. That seems to be your problem too.”

“Imagine that,” said Cullen dryly.

Roderick bared his teeth at them. “I hardly think your amateurish efforts to diagnose me will meet with any success. Next you’ll want to touch me with your filthy magic.”

“I assure you,” Rose said blandly, “I have no intention of touching you with my magic or otherwise. Might I suggest you eat more fish and cucumbers.”

Cullen snorted a laugh which he covered with a cough.

“Mark my words, Healer, you will come to a bad end with your continued heresy and unorthodoxy. And you, Commander Cullen, you of all people should know better.” Roderick strode furiously towards Haven’s gates, leaving Rose staring after him in confusion.

“I’m a heretic now? Wasn’t I the leader of a house of ill repute? And what did you do wrong?”

Cullen sighed heavily. “Maker’s breath, that man. I apologise that he waylaid you, Rose. If you would please excuse me, I need to pre-empt his filing of a complaint with the ambassador about our apparent wrongdoings.”

“I’ll walk with you, I need to talk to Minaeve.”

The elven mage was perched precariously on a pile of boxes in the chantry, attempting to access the spider webs in a corner of the roof. She was happy to stop and discuss Rose’s request for spiders’ silk, though it turned out was only accessible for medical purposes from giant spiders. Minaeve had just promised to locate a reliable source when Herald Cadash and Seeker Pentaghast came striding into the chantry, both with deep scowls. 

Cassandra waved an arm at Rose on her way towards the War Room. “Please, accompany us, Healer. The Herald needs medical attention and her complaints about my first aid skills are grating on my nerves.”

Rose gave Minaeve a nod of thanks. “Okay, certainly.” She fell into step with the rogue and the warrior.

Della held up a hand swathed in grubby dressings. “The Seeker and I rode on ahead and we got into a scuffle with bandits. One of the poxy buggers sliced up my hand, near the mark. Can you magic it up for me, Healer?”

Rose nodded her assent. “I’ll clean it, then magically promote the healing process for you so you can use the hand immediately.”

“Solas and Varric are guarding the rest of our convoy,” said Cassandra. “The Herald gained two new assets for our Inquisition, the mage Madame Vivienne and a young archer named Sera. Madame Vivienne’s wardrobe required its own cart in the convoy.”

“Do you mean Enchanter Vivienne? From Montsimmard?” said Rose, tilting her head in thought.

Cassandra nodded, slowing her long strides, so the Herald didn’t have to scurry to keep up. “First Enchanter Vivienne now.”

“I met her once, many years ago. She was… very formidable.” Rose grinned as she remembered Enchanter Vivienne freezing an Ostwick Senior Enchanter to the wall after an inappropriate proposition.

Cassandra’s lips twitched in amusement. “She certainly is that.”

Della laughed and shook her head. “She’d frighten the Ancestors back into their graves.”

Josephine, Leliana and Cullen all came out of the War Room to meet them.

“It is good you have returned,” said Josephine, “We heard of your encounter.”

“You heard?” Cassandra looked quizzical.

“My agents in Val Royeaux sent word ahead, of course.” Leliana looked pleased with herself, though Rose avoided staring. The Spymaster was the person she’d most like to avoid. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to lie successfully enough in front of Leliana about her background.

“It’s a shame the templars have abandoned their senses as well as the capital,” said Cullen, grimacing.

Della looked up at him and rolled her eyes. “Branka’s tits. You may call it abandoning their senses, Commander, but I say they are a bunch of arrogant cocks.”

Cassandra looked at Cullen as well and frowned. “Lord Seeker Lucius is not the man I remember.”

“He was a cock,” Della said definitively, sitting on one of the barrels that were stacked haphazardly against a wall.

Rose sat down beside her and rummaged in her satchel, taking out the supplies she needed and then unwrapping the grubby bandages around the dwarf’s hand. Della hissed in pain as Rose exposed her wounded hand. The green glow from the mark on her hand made her blood-stained wounds appear sickly.

“Cassandra bandaged it up for me,” the Herald explained. “Though her skills clearly lie more with inflicting wounds than caring for them.”

Rose poured some blood lotus and alcohol infused water onto a rag and set about cleaning the dwarven woman’s hand.

Cassandra ignored the slights against her first aid capabilities. “No-one was willing to engage in discussions with us. One templar raised doubts about the Lord Seekers actions but ultimately, he followed orders too.”

Della narrowed her eyes in remembrance. “Oh him. Yes, he was sexy. A tall glass of ale, and Paragon’s take me am I thirsty. Sadly, he was also a cock.”

Cassandra gave Della a sidelong glare. “This was after one of them had punched Revered Mother Hevara, knocking her to the ground.”

“That guy was most certainly a cock.” Della’s sentence ended in a yelp as Rose poured water over her hand to flush out any dirt from the sword cut.

Cassandra rolled her eyes. “Quite,” she said crisply.

“Though that Revered Mother wasn’t much better,” Della continued. “Can’t really call a woman a cock though, what’s the equivalent? Oh, right, she was a cu…”

“Yes Herald, you’ve made your point,” Cassandra interjected smoothly.

Della and Rose exchanged a glance. The Herald grinned unrepentantly.

“I’m going to use magic now, are you ready?” Rose murmured, gently cupping Della’s hand with her own.

“Yes. Anything to take away the stinging from whatever you used to clean me with. It’s like a thousand blighted nugs all biting me at once,” Della hissed in return.

“Your trip means we have the opening we need to approach either the mages or the templars,” said Josephine, politely ignoring the medical procedure taking place in front of her.

“We must look into the situation with the templars. I’m certain not everyone in the Order will support the Lord Seeker,” said Cullen, wincing minutely as Rose shut her eyes, grasped her magic and focused it on the Herald’s hand.

“Lord Fucking Seeker,” Della muttered, looking anywhere but at her hand.  “Definitely a cock.”

Josephine cleared her throat. “Or the Herald could simply go to meet the mages in Redcliffe instead.”

“You think the mage rebellion is more united? It could be ten times worse!” said Cullen, scowling.

Rose completely healed the Herald’s hand instead of just letting her body’s natural processes work, since she would need the use of it. She eyed the green mark beside the now smooth and unblemished skin, and conjured a tiny ice glyph on her fingertips, pressing them gently into Della’s palm to provide cool relief.

“Or you could stop bickering and make a decision,” said Della sharply.

Cassandra grunted agreement. “I agree.”

“We shouldn’t discount Redcliffe. The mages may be worth the risk and we need you to travel to the Hinterlands immediately, regardless.” Josephine had the look of someone who was about to get an earful from an annoyed dwarf.

Della made a highly sceptical noise. Rose patted her now functional hand as a farewell, and gathered up her medical supplies.

Leliana was speaking as Rose quietly slipped away from the group. “…to Orlais but they had also disappeared. We’ve had word of a Grey Warden named Blackwall, we urgently need you to make contact with him and get information.”

_Mages or templars. The rebels or the people who’d kill mages without a thought_.

Rose shut the doors to the Chantry behind her, leaving the Herald and the leaders of the Inquisition to discuss their future.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Della calling the templars in Val Royeaux 'cocks' was a low key tribute to my Scottish husband. Scottish people have the best, most effective insults!


	7. Chapter 7

Rose opened her eyes into the dusky light of evening. She must have drifted off for a moment. She sat up and yawned.

_What was I doing before I fell asleep?_

Memory sluggishly returned. She’d been reading aloud from ‘The Epic and Wonderous Tales of Lucky: The First Mabari to Sail Across the Amaranthine Ocean’ which she’d borrowed from school teacher Aldwin. Ivy and Mari had been giggling after they provided the sounds for Lucky’s whines and barks. Daven always listened to her read with a rapt expression on his face and he liked to read over the text himself after she’d finished reading to them for the evening.

_Wait, where are the children?_

Rose looked around the empty tent, then down at herself. She was wearing a man’s cream coloured linen shirt. It was much too big, and it hung off one of her bare shoulders.

Commander Cullen ducked into the tent. “The children are safe with Val,” he said, giving her a gentle smile. “She was happy to let us have some time alone.”

Rose blinked muzzily at him. Something was off about this, he’d never smiled at her in quite that way, had he? Her gaze drifted downwards. Cullen was gloriously shirtless, wearing thin sleep pants that did nothing to hide how pleased he was to see her. She gazed openly at him. He was leaner than she’d expected, but still heavily muscled. It was hard to tell under all his armour what he really looked like. Scars littered his torso, but the urge to run her hands over his warm, taut flesh was nigh on irresistible.

Cullen’s smile grew broader as he noticed her staring. “Shall we feast upon each other tonight?” he said with a predatory smirk.

His words were jarring, and Rose’s eyes flicked up to his face. His eyes were wrong, glinting purple in the dim light of the tent.

She smacked herself on the forehead. “Well fuck me, a Desire demon.”

The demon advanced on her, a glint in his eye. She stood up and moved back a few steps.

“Not literally, you stupid demon. I’m not going to let you in, you needn’t bother trying.” She swiftly moved past the creature and out of the tent. They were in the Fade version of the refugee camp in Haven, but hers was the only visible tent. The area looked oddly bare without the usual bustle of the camp. The Cullen-demon followed her out of the tent, looking down at her bare legs with undisguised interest.

“Well, assuming Pride decided to leave me alone, I’d have bet my gold on getting a Rage demon instead of this shitty Cullen facsimile,” said Rose, resisting the urge to tug the shirt lower. “I wonder what this is all about.”

“I am intimately familiar with your esteemed Commander, Lady Rose.” The demon emphasised her discarded title. “I assure you this body can give you much pleasure if you only let me in.”

“Stop it, you foul creature. I’m not even interested in him.” She gave an exaggerated sigh and rolled her eyes. “Always with the fucking templars. You demons lack imagination.”

The thought that she was potentially lying about not being attracted to the Commander skittered around the edges of her mind. She refused to acknowledge it.

Cullen’s stolen face gave her a charming smile, tugging at the scar on his lip in a most appealing way. “Fucking the templars has been on your thoughts.”

From one heartbeat to the next the Desire demon became Martin.

Rose flinched despite herself. The Martin-copy looked exactly like she remembered. Dark brown eyes and hair, flawless dusky skin, a crooked smile on his handsome face. He was resplendent in templar armour, though without a helmet or sword.

_Maker’s balls, Ivy looks so much like him_. _Shit, I never believed I’d see him again, even in demon-form._

Rose schooled herself to calmness, her heart racing.

_Don’t let it realise you’re flustered_. _It’s not Martin, it’s a demon. Neither of them can hurt you unless you let them._

“Well that’s clearly never going to work,” Rose said defiantly. “You can go away now. It’s been an interesting change from my usual demon, I’ll give you that.”

The Fade wavered, and some furniture from a typical templar office appeared around them. Spectral bookcases, an armour stand, a side table with a jug of water. More alarmingly, a large wooden desk. As Rose stared at it with increasing horror, it appeared to solidify and grow larger.

_Don’t panic_ , she thought frantically. _This is what it wants. Focus on a different part of the Fade and you will go there_.

In the blink of an eye the Martin-demon moved beside her and grasped the back of her neck. Rose stiffened at the familiar touch. The demon caressed the side of her neck with its thumb, just like in her memories of Martin.

Rose let her eyes go unfocused and pictured her cabin in the Hinterlands, the place where she’d been the happiest in her life.

Nothing happened. The demon increased its grip and manoeuvred her towards the desk.

“You ridiculous creature,” Rose muttered through her gritted teeth. “Martin never forced me. I always went to his office voluntarily, fool that I was.”

The demon gently pushed her face down on the desk and ran a hand down her side, then tugged at the hem of her shirt, exposing the ugly scar on her hip.

“Fuck no,” Rose growled, desperate to avoid the taunting of the demon over the mark her father had given her so long ago. She squeezed her eyes shut tight and focused with all her might on her cabin.

She staggered forward as the desk disappeared and she was in the Hinterlands. Rose glanced around.

_Alone. No demons_.

She slumped down against the nearest wall. Shame flooded her. Memories of way she’d behaved around Martin were sickening.

_I’m not that person any more. I’m free and I’ve made a good life for my family. I must remain in control here in the Fade._

“What the fuck was that then?” she whispered aloud. “A Desire demon? Where’s the Pride demon gone?”

Answers were not forthcoming, but neither were any more demons. She sat against the wall with her eyes shut and waited for her physical body to get the rest it sorely needed in the waking world.

 

***

 

The day was bright and sunny, and the cold air was crisp in her lungs. Rose watched as Mari chased Ivy over the ice of the lake, both girls shrieking with laughter. Messere Fluffy strolled sedately beside them, his fluffy tail held stiffly erect and his long tabby fur ruffling in the slight breeze.

Ivy’s face held a joy that Martin’s never did, Rose decided. Her features and colouring were like his, but she was a happy, animated little girl. She never saw her former lover when she looked at his child, she only saw her beloved daughter.

_That cursed Desire demon has rattled me_ , she thought. _I’m not sure which was worse, seeing the horrible creature wearing Cullen’s face and body, or Martin’s._  

Daven gave her a gentle poke in the arm.

“Oh right, ah, _On'vun'in_ Daven,” Rose said, schooling her face into a pleasant mask of calm parenthood and ruffling his hair.

“ _On'vun'in Mamae_ Rose, I wish you a good day too,” said Daven, in his piping little boy’s voice. “And what is your name?”

“ _Ma'melin_ Rose,” Rose paused, considering. “ _Andaran atish'an_ Haven, I live in Haven.”

“Correct! _On viraju_.” Daven grinned at her, then waved back at Ivy who was waving excitedly at them. Mari had stopped chasing her and was staring over at the army training area.

Rose waved back at Ivy too. “I reckon I have the greetings covered. Ask me something harder _da’len_!”

Daven considered her request. “And who am I, then?”

Rose scrunched up her nose in thought. “ _’Ma ane mala ‘ma ishaor_ ,” she said hesitantly.

Daven tipped his head back and laughed. “ _On viraju, Mamae_ Rose, good work. But you said I am now your ram, not I am now your son. _Isha'len_ is son, _ishaor_ is ram.”

Rose grinned at him. “Alright then, ‘ _ma ane mala ‘ma isha'len_. And I am lucky to have you as my son and not a sheep.”

“ _Ma serannas_ Rose, thank you.”

They both looked back at the lake where Ivy was sprawled on her back on the ice, kicking her legs and laughing with Messere Fluffy perched proudly on her chest. Mari was crouched beside Ivy’s head, patting her hair and giggling.

“I love you and the girls, Mama Rose,” said Daven, grinning at the antics on the ice. “I miss my old family a lot, but this one is nice too.”

Rose pulled him against her side and kissed the top of his head. “We all love you too, it’s wonderful having you in our family.”

They both laughed as Messere Fluffy sprang off Ivy and tackled Mari, who threw her arms around him and happily screamed “FUFF!”.

“We should take the goats for a walk,” said Daven between his giggles. “They’d enjoy the crazy times playing on the lake too.”

“That’s a good idea,” said Rose, and they both glanced towards the stables.

“Hey, there’s Varric!” Daven waved frantically at the dwarf who was walking past the stables. “He promised me he’d loan me Hard in Hightown to read so long as I skipped over the unsuitable bits.”

Rose laughed. “I’ll read it first, _da’len_ , to see how unsuitable those unsuitable bits are.”

Varric strode over to them. “Greetings, Healer, Daven. What are you two up to this fine day?”

“Mari and Ivy are using up all their energy by running around on the lake and Rose is practicing her elven,” said Daven, beaming proudly at Rose. “My _Mamae_ and _Babae_ were Dalish so she said she’d like me to teach her elven so we can speak it at home.”

“Your father was Dalish too?” Rose interjected, “I thought only your mother was?”

Daven looked at his feet and shuffled awkwardly. “They had to leave their clan because they were both mages, and there were too many mages already,” Daven’s voice was very quiet. “I had to promise I’d never ever tell anyone, but they wouldn’t mind for you Mama Rose. _Mamae_ thought you were a good healer for a shem.”

Rose and Varric exchanged a meaningful glance.

“Both parents were mages, that makes things interesting,” said Varric.

Rose gave Varric a rueful look, then put her arm over Daven’s thin shoulders. “You aren’t in trouble sweetling. Your parents were good people and they wouldn’t mind you telling us about their magic. And…” Rose paused and kept her voice purposely light. “And if you are a mage like them, and like me, I’ll make sure you have training and it will all be fine.”

Daven nodded slowly.

“Anyway, learning elven is a worthy endeavour,” Varric said cheerfully. “Let me ask my contacts, see if they can track down some books with some written elven for you both to read. I’ve heard they are rare, but with the Circles dissolved there might be some available. I know Seer Agata wrote a children’s book with some elven poetry and songs included.”

Daven brightened, then grinned at the dwarf. “Thank you, Varric.”

Ivy and Mari walked over to them, holding hands. Messere Fluffy had wandered off.

“Can we go to the goats, Mama? Mari really wants to visit them,” said Ivy.

“Tullen,” said Mari, pointing over at the training grounds where Commander Cullen was gesticulating wildly and shouting at some of his recruits.

“No Mari, goats. Can you say goats? Goh-oats. Goats.” Ivy bent down to eye height with Mari and smiled encouragingly at her.

Mari’s eyes flicked between Ivy and the training grounds. “No, I-bee,” she said, frowning.

“Mari…” Ivy looked exasperated.

Rose pictured the Cullen-demon from her time in the Fade and shuddered, thankful that he hadn’t been around for her training today. “Let’s leave the soldiers be today. Ser Betsy and Jonty will be thrilled to get visitors, I’m sure.”

“VARRIC!” said Ivy, only now noticing the dwarf. “Come and see the goats with us!”

Varric let the chattering little girls grasp a hand each and pull him along, Mari momentarily distracted from her hero worship of the Commander.

_Cullen doesn’t look like he’s in the mood to do anything other than shout at people._ Rose paused mid-stride as she observed him, _he looks like he’s in pain. Maybe I should get Kalara to drop off a healing potion for him. Maybe some sort of purgative too, that often helps an ill-temper._

“Apparently we’re heading back to the Hinterlands tomorrow, Della has decided she wants to speak to the rebel mages,” Varric said over his shoulder to Rose, interrupting her train of thought. “I could use some fun before we have to go to that Maker-forsaken disaster zone again.”

_Thank Andraste the Inquisition isn’t approaching the templars for help_. _That also might explain Cullen’s mood._

The little cluster of people walked over to the stables, and Rose and Varric leaned on the outside fence whilst the children ran inside.

_The rebel mages. Shit, what if some people from the Ostwick Circle made their way over to Ferelden?_

“You okay, Healer?” Varric peered at her face.

“I’m good,” said Rose. “Just busy, like everyone is. It’s nice to spend the morning with the children.”

Varric hummed an agreement.

_It’s not likely any of them would be a mage whom I know_ , Rose tried to reassure herself. _Not after half a decade and a civil war_. _They probably wouldn’t even recognise me._

Ivy’s voice drifted over to them. “Mama! Varric! Ser Betsy just laid her baby! It’s kind of disgusting. You must come and see!”

Varric laughed. “The fun never stops around you and your family, Healer.”

Rose shook her head and smiled. “Come and meet the new baby, Varric!”

They went over to the goat pen where the children were watching over the fence and Ser Betsy was licking a little brown and white kid who was sprawled on the ground. The baby was making shrill bleating noises and Ser Betsy was huffing bleats in return. Jonty stood in the corner, looking uneasy.

“Could you fetch me a clean rag from one of the stableboys please Daven,” Rose said, going into the pen with the goats.

She gave Jonty a pat, who gave a loud “MLEH,” but didn’t take his eyes off Ser Betsy.

Daven handed her the rag and Rose crouched down to wipe the nose and mouth of the baby.

“They’re both fine,” Rose said to the children and Varric, then checked under a leg of the little goat. “The kid is a girl, so you’ll need to think of a nice name for her.”

“We should name her Apples,” Daven’s voice was definitive.

Ivy jiggled and clapped her hands. “Yes, Apples! That is a beautiful wonderful name.”

Rose nodded. “Okay, that sounds, um, great.”

Mari pointed through the slats of the fence at the new baby. “Tullen?”

Ivy patted her gently on the head. “No Mari, this very special little baby is named Apples.”

Mari’s lower lip quivered dangerously, and her big blue eyes filled with tears. “Tullen?”

“Why don’t we name the next little baby goat ‘Cullen’?” Rose said smoothly. “Naming a goat will be a fun treat for you.”

_She’ll forget by the time the next one comes along. Thank the Maker. I don’t want to have to explain that name to the Commander._

Mari grinned and nodded. “Otay.”

“Now why don’t we take Jonty for a walk before Val comes to look after you this afternoon? We can take him to see how many nugs we can spot outside of Haven’s walls.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My research for this chapter involved studying a fake language and watching YouTube videos about goat midwifery. It’s been a wild ride!
> 
> My Facebook feed already shows me a bunch of ads offering me quarterstaff training because of all the research I did for Rose's staff training, so the mind boggles what it's going to show me after watching videos of goats giving birth....
> 
> The sources I used for my interpretation of the elven language were:  
> [Project Elvhen](https://archiveofourown.org/series/229061)  
> and  
> [An elven DAI google doc](https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1M4hVCUbdo9rGv24eeh78CTLp9zOHkFkl0rLUqWfm7E0/htmlview#)  
> Thanks to the people who put a lot of hard work into these!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/159497572@N07/47012445911/in/dateposted-public/)  
>  Portrait of Rose by Barbara 'Yuhime' Wyrowińska :D

Ten days after the Herald and her companions left for their second excursion to the Hinterlands, Rose found herself in the unusually quiet tavern. It was an odd time to eat breakfast, Rose supposed, mid-morning when most people rose at dawn or shortly after. She’d been too busy getting the children ready for the day and then taking care of things at the Infirmary to eat until now. She’d felt like a small indulgence so excused herself for a few minutes and went in search of some fresh hot food.

The food was an embarrassment of riches here in Haven. It had been a long time since she didn’t have to worry about mouths to feed. Mouths who needed to eat before she did. She thought Daven probably noticed that she went without food in favour of them, but she always encouraged him to eat his fill, pretending she wasn’t hungry. Maker knew he ate little enough.

Sometimes she considered the life she used to have before the Circle, as a well fed and pampered possession of her father. He thought he’d be able to make his beautiful, well-bred daughter an excellent match with a compliant man. One who would pretend not to notice the bruises and more marring the skin under her clothes on their wedding day. From her potential marriage and Rowan’s, they would produce enough children for her father to use to restore the flagging fortunes of their house. Until that sunny Ostwick day in her sixteenth year when Father caught her using her rudimentary healing on one of the local cats and discovered she’d been hiding her magic from him since just before her eleventh birthday. Her father dragged her off to the Circle more bruised than usual, some even on her face, starkly visible so everyone could see what a disappointment she was to her family. Her innate magic being betrayal enough, but then followed so soon by Rowan, joining the Templars as her protector.

Lady Trevelyan’s fashionable noblewoman’s wardrobe got exchanged for the serviceable robes of a Circle mage. Her jewels, her expensive possessions, left behind. What a useless, vain child she had been.

Rose let the porridge drip from her spoon into the bowl, the chunks of dried fruit looking garish within the lumpy cream coloured mixture.

She’d devoted herself to study in the Circle, desperate to work so hard that she never had time to think about her blighted life as her Father’s daughter. Exchanging one prison for another was the sum of it, but at least at the Circle she could learn about magic and help to heal people to the best of her ability. She lived that way for years, well into her adulthood, until she’d caught the eye of the new Knight-Captain, Martin Villanova.

She took a mouthful of the porridge and mentally shook herself.

_No point dwelling on the past. I’m doing good, useful, work here and the children are safe. That’s all that matters._

She had just finished her porridge when one of Leliana’s scouts came into the Tavern and rushed over.

“They urgently need you in the War Room, Healer,” said the earnest young man. “Please report there right away.”

She nodded slowly. “Did they say what it was about?”

“No Healer, just that they needed you to attend at once.”

“Maybe one of them has taken ill,” Rose muttered. “Thank you for the message, I’ll head there now.”

She slung the ever-present satchel containing her basic medical supplies over her shoulder and hurried toward the Chantry building. She knocked at the door to the War Room and opened it at Josephine’s acknowledgement.

The Antivan woman, Leliana and Cullen all stood at the back of the large table they used for planning. Cullen had a frown on his face, but he didn’t look injured or sick. Cassandra was pacing up and down the side of the room and Della sat on a chair in the corner, eyeing the others.

_So they are back from the Hinterlands. When did that happen? Where are the rebel mages?_

“I got your message,” said Rose, searching their faces as she unslung her satchel, “does someone require medical attention?”

There was a long pause as Leliana and Josephine exchanged a glance.

“Lady Evelyn Trevelyan,” said Josephine.

At the sound of her old name, Rose felt bile rise into her throat.

_Oh fuck. Oh no no no._

“Yes?” she said as neutrally as she could manage.

Cullen shifted uncomfortably behind the table.

“We did some enquiries when you joined the Inquisition.” Josephine looked at the papers she held. “Seeing as you were less than forthcoming about your background.”

Rose dug her fingernails into the palm of her free hand. “The Circles had dissolved. Why was this relevant?”

Cullen spoke, still with the frown on his face. “We needed to make sure you weren’t a threat.”

Rose’s voice increased in volume. “You recruited me as a healer. Surely you deemed that I wasn’t a threat when you bought us here.”

Josephine spoke softly, inexorably. “Our enquires led us to Ostwick. Your father, Bann Trevelyan, has been in touch. He was most eager for news of you and he offered to voice his support of us to the Chantry.”

Rose dropped her satchel. The sound of shattering potion bottles barely registered over the sound of her heart beating in her ears. The Pride demon laughed, very faintly, into her mind. Rose wasn’t sure if it relieved her that Pride had appeared instead of Desire, or not.

 _Calm, calm_ , Rose thought, struggling to get her breathing under control. The urge to blast the room with ice and flee was almost overwhelming.

“I was Lady Evelyn Trevelyan, shame of her House and cause of her brother’s death. Note the ‘was’. I am not that person anymore.” Her hands shook. The others all looked perplexed, like they couldn’t understand her reaction.

She licked her dry lips. “Does he know about Ivy?”

Josephine raised an eyebrow. “Your daughter? We only enquired about you, and he did not mention her in his correspondence.”

Rose shut her eyes. “They knew of my pregnancy within the Circle. News travels fast there. Mar… ah, the man who fathered Ivy let my father know I was expecting a child. Bann Trevelyan made plans to take custody of my child at birth as neither Rowan nor I were able to be his heirs as a templar and a mage.”

“I never knew they took newborn babies away from mages until I met you,” muttered Della. “That’s really fucking evil.”

Rose gave a harsh laugh. “Indeed.” She looked back at Josephine. “Did you not think I was less than forthcoming for a reason? Was my work as a physician not adequate to prove myself?”

Josephine sighed heavily. “Your skills have been invaluable. However, by your own admission you were an escaped mage. We had to check for any evidence of blood magic or unsavoury connections. That is understandable you would take another identity, but you need not hide any more. Your nobility would be of great use to us, in addition to your skill as a physician.”

Rose pinched the bridge of her nose. “My father will come here, he’ll take…”

“I don’t understand. You are a valued member of the Inquisition, you don’t need to leave.” Cassandra interrupted her.  “Why would your father attempt to take you away?”

“I doubt he’ll make an attempt on me. But Ivy is defenceless. She’s the heir he so desperately wanted.”

“Why not keep your daughter with you for now and give Ivy the choice when she is older? There are worse fates in this world than being the sole heir of a noble house.”

“Yes, but he’s…” Rose growled under her breath. “Let me show you what kind of man my father is.”

She fumbled at the laces to her breeches. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Cullen turn his back, but the women kept watching her curiously. She tugged one side down to expose her hip. Just behind her hip bone, the ugly raised mark of the letter ‘T’ burned into her skin when she was a child. A permanent reminder of her exalted status as a valuable commodity, the daughter of House Trevelyan, first owned by her father and then owned by the Chantry.

Josephine gasped and put her hand over her mouth, tears glimmering in her eyes. At her reaction, Cullen looked over his shoulder, muttering a low “Maker’s breath” when he saw her skin.

“Paragon’s… fuck, he branded you like an animal.” Della sounded incredulous. “I don’t care who this Bann Trevelyan is, if he tries to get his hands on you or your child I’ll gut him like a fucking fish.”

“I agree with the Herald,” said Cassandra in a low and dangerous voice.

Rose pulled her breeches up, swallowing her nausea. “What are most noble girls anyway but breeding stock to trade for marriage and power? The only difference with me is that I am obviously marked as such.”

There was silence in the room.

Rose sighed. “This is the only permanent reminder of my father visible on me, but he is a very violent man. He will try to take Ivy off me just as surely as the templars would have.”

Cullen gripped the pommel of his sword as he looked at her. “It was a mistake on our part to alert your father to your presence here, but we can protect you.”

The look in his eyes was too much for her. The pity and sorrow. “As simple as that? You’ll protect us, Commander Cullen? Like the templars protected me when I was finally taken away from my father? I am no different to any mage.”

“We can’t change the past, but we can protect you now,” he said stiffly.

Anger, white hot and violent clouded Rose’s vision and drowned her ever-present shame in a tide of rage. She turned on Cullen, unleashing all the pain she’d experienced since entering this room. She wanted someone to hurt like she had for so many years. “When you were a templar, the Circle protector, did you take part in the removal of newborn babies from the mages in your charge? Did you wait in the room, like a sick voyeur, watching a woman labour for hours, days, screaming in pain, only to have the baby leave her body and then get torn from her arms? Did you like when she cried for her baby, because she’s only a mage and mages deserve to suffer?”

“That’s enough Rose, we were talking about your father, not templars,” Cassandra said, putting her hand on Rose’s tense shoulder.

“No, I never participated in… that,” Cullen whispered, his face grey and drawn.

“I did,” Rose snarled. “They took me from a life of violence to a life where I helped those women give birth and watched as the templars took those babies away. I held the mothers as they cried afterwards. I promised them their children would have a good life, knowing it was a lie. That would have been my child, given like property to my bastard of a father if I hadn’t run away.”

“You’re a valued member of the Inquisition, Healer Rose.” Leliana finally spoke up, her voice calm. “We would have liked to leverage your noble background for our cause, but you and your daughter, all your children, are safe with us.”

Snow swirled around the room as Rose drew on a trickle of her ice magic. Fat delicate flakes settled in ominous silence on the hair of everyone there. “If anyone tries to take Ivy, I will kill them,” Rose said quietly.

 _You would do that, you are a most powerful mage after all_ , whispered the Pride demon. _If you let me in, nothing could stop us._

Rose mentally redoubled her efforts to ignore the demon.

Della flicked one of her daggers up into the air and caught it with her thumb and forefinger when it came down. “If anyone tries to touch your family, Rose, we will help you kill them.”

“We’re sorry, Rose.” Cassandra spoke, soundingly genuinely contrite. She shook her head to dislodge the snow. “We look into the backgrounds of all major members of the Inquisition. Cullen was correct, we will do our utmost to keep you safe.”

Cullen remained silent, staring at the war table, snow settling gently on his golden hair.

“Are we finished here?” said Della abruptly, “I could use a stiff fucking drink.” The dwarf ran the toe of her boot through the snowflakes on the floor.

Josephine looked at her notes then nodded. “Yes, this was the last item we needed to discuss.”

Cullen hurried out of the room, not looking at any of them. Rose soon followed him, before anyone was able to talk to her. She left her satchel with its broken potion bottles sitting on the floor where she’d dropped it.

Her stomach churned with nausea and saliva collected in her mouth as she walked through the Chantry. She didn’t like being here at the best of times, but now with the reminders of her past it was worse than usual. With a shaking hand, Rose wiped away the sweat that had started to run down her face.

 _Oh fucking perfect, I’m going to vomit_.

She flung open the Chantry doors and rushed outside, running through the scattered trees towards the back of the building, where she would have privacy. She fell to her knees on the ground and vomited onto a patch of dirty snow. When her stomach was empty, she sat back on her haunches, swiping her streaming eyes and nose roughly with the back of her hand.

She jumped as Cullen appeared beside her and handed her a crisp white handkerchief with his initials monogrammed in the corner.

_Oh of course it’s him, of all bloody people. Of course._

Cullen silently helped her to sit on a nearby boulder, then sat down beside her.

She wiped her face and mouth and blew her nose. “I still have your other handkerchief from when you split my lip during sparring,” she said weakly, her voice rasping.

Cullen was leaning forward, resting his forearms on his thighs and staring at his hands. “It’s alright, you can keep it.”

Rose took a deep breath. “Why were you here?”

“I came here for a few moments of privacy, before I had to resume training the soldiers,” said Cullen, giving her a small sidelong glance.

“Ah.”

They sat in silence. Rose listened to the distant bustle of noise around Haven.

“I’m…” she grimaced and swallowed, “I’m sorry for what I said to you. About the babies.”

“I joined the templars because I thought I’d be helping keep people safe.” He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “But I will atone for the rest of my life for the things I did when I was in the Order. I feel like I was complicit in all the ways the templars wronged mages, even if I believed they were the correct things to do at the time.”

Rose huffed a breath. “At least you had a choice about joining the Order. Mages don’t have a choice about how they are born.”

“I’m trying to fix what I can, Lady Tr… Rose,” he amended as she scowled ferociously at him. “That’s all I can do.”

Rose studied his face. He looked as terrible as she felt. “Some things just can’t be fixed. Nothing will bring them back. But… thank you for at least trying.”

He nodded silently. They stayed sitting together, each lost in their own thoughts.

“Did you know who I was when we trained this morning?” said Rose, eventually.

He shook his head. “Leliana only revealed the information shortly before the meeting. I wouldn’t have pretended not to know, I would not trick or deceive you.”

“That’s probably why she didn’t tell you. Who I was doesn’t matter though. You of all people would understand that it only matters who a person is now.”

Cullen hummed an agreement, and they fell into silence again.

“Why did you choose the name Rose?” he said after a few minutes.

“It felt close enough to my brother’s name, Rowan, that part of him was still with me. We were twins,” Rose said, a lump rising in her throat, “so we’d always been together. He died so Ivy and I would have the chance to be free.”

“Rowan Trevelyan,” Cullen said slowly. “I’ve heard the name. I vaguely remember that a blood mage supposedly killed him.”

Rose gave a rueful laugh. “I am many things, Commander, but I am no blood mage. Knight-Commander Hughes killed him the night of my escape. I saw him stab my brother in his lungs then through his heart, wounds I couldn’t heal, so I iced the room to hinder pursuit and escaped through the dungeons and sewers before they could get close enough to Silence me.”

“Cassandra confirmed you weren’t a blood mage when you came here. She believed if you wouldn’t resort to it when your children faced danger then you were safe to be part of our organisation.”

“Fair point.” Rose looked down at her hands, then blew her nose again on the handkerchief she still clutched.

“Are you quite well now?”

“Yes I’m a lot better, thank you. I need to get back to my patients. The shock of the meeting has worn off.”

Cullen stood up and held out his gloved hand to her. She looked at it for a moment, then put her hand in his and let him pull her to her feet. He held her hand for a moment too long as they looked at each other, before letting it go. His eyes looked sad, but he gave her a little smile. “Shall I walk with you to the Infirmary?”

“I… yes, alright. Thank you.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More lovely art! This one is Mari and Messere Fluffy, by Barbara 'Yuhime' Wyrowińska.
> 
> [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/159497572@N07/46456749534/in/dateposted-public/)  
> 

Rose hefted the bottle of gurgut bile and added it to the contents of the basket that one of the new nurses, a young human woman named Lin, was clutching. “And deliver this one to Aalidis please, make sure she drinks it while you are watching. Remind her I need to examine her and the babe tomorrow, and if that husband of hers tries to stop her getting any medical attention I’ll turn him into a spider.”

Lin paled and held the basket tighter. “Can you really do that, my Lady?” she whispered, wide eyed.

Rose snorted through her nose. “Don’t call me that, Lin, ‘Healer’ is fine if you can’t manage my actual name. And no, I can’t turn people into animals, but he doesn’t know that.”

Lin nodded quickly, then scuttled off towards the infirmary door.

“No more than two of the Orlesian letters per soldier either,” Rose called after her, “they are supposed to be washing them out and re-using them. And don’t let Chancellor Roderick see you, I really can’t face a public fracas over penis protection right now.”

Lin squeaked something that might have been an agreement and sped up, almost colliding with Della Cadash as she ran through the door.

“Herald,” Rose greeted the dwarven woman. “What can I do for you?”

Della held out Rose’s satchel. She’d abandoned it in the war room after the revelations about her identity. She hadn’t been able to face going back to get it, instead throwing herself into her work and her family, only spending time at the infirmary or the refugee camp. Rose was well aware she couldn’t avoid the Inquisition leaders for forever, but she needed time to process the discovery of her identity. And, judging by the speculative looks she’d been getting, news of her nobility had become common knowledge in Haven.

“I cleaned out your satchel for you,” said Della, “there was broken glass all through that shit.”

Rose gingerly took the bag and looked inside. It was spotless, all traces of glass and spilled potions removed and replaced with fresh ones. Even her field dressings and medical tools were clean. “Thank you, Della,” she said through the lump suddenly in her throat.

“Well, you know. Paragon’s tits, I wouldn’t be a very good Herald of your Andraste if I wasn’t nice to people occasionally,” said Della gruffly. “I wanted to talk to you, did you have any time you could spare?”

Rose took a deep breath then let it out slowly. “Well I need to alchemise some herbs while the infirmary is quiet, so we could talk while I do the preparations for that. How are you with a sickle?”

Della grinned at her. “Rose, I have never met a blade I didn’t like.”

They headed to the potion preparation room, which was heady with the scent of large batches of dried elfroot and blood lotus that Nurse Kalara had purloined from Adan’s stash. The elderly dwarf, it turned out, had quite a flair for thievery and subterfuge. Rose was both impressed and slightly concerned, but at least it meant that the people of Haven would benefit from the medicine they could make, rather than have the herbs used only for Adan’s theoretical experiments.  

Rose demonstrated how to strip the heads off and split the stalks of the blood lotus with the sickle, then let Della work on that while she pulled apart the elfroot, making tidy piles of the leaves, stems and roots.

“So,” said Della, slicing the curved blade down the fibrous stalk of the blood lotus with gusto, “are we allowed to talk openly about your real identity?”

Rose sighed and separated the root from the stalk of one plant with more force than strictly necessary. “Well, the nug is out of the sack now, so yes, go ahead. One of my nurses addressed me as Lady, so it seems to be common knowledge.”

Della hummed an agreement. “News travels fast here. Our main physician, who was an orphan-rescuing apostate, turning out to be a noblewoman. That is certainly cause for gossip.”

“And yet nobody remembers that the Chantry strips mages of their titles upon joining the Circle, rendering me a former noble, at best.” Rose aggressively threw an elfroot leaf on the pile, causing the dried plant matter to scatter slightly.

“You are who you were born, people don’t care about the current legal niceties. Anyway.” Della gestured with the sickle as she talked, and Rose shuffled down the bench to give her more space to gesticulate safely. “Do you know Grand Enchanter Fiona?”

Rose rolled her eyes. “Maker’s balls Della, I was just an Enchanter in Ostwick. That means I taught healing spells to a bunch of recalcitrant teenagers. I was very unimportant.”

“Your rank afforded no privileges?” the Herald said, pursing her lips in thought. “Meeting honoured guests, hobnobbing with dignitaries?”

“My brother Rowan was allowed in the same circle as me,” Rose said.

 _He might have lived if he’d been at a different Circle_ , the words surfaced unbidden, as they usually did when she remembered Rowan. _I as much as killed him._

Rose efficiently shoved her thoughts away through long years of practice. “That’s as far as it went. The First Enchanter promoted me on merit, not for being born a Trevelyan.”

“Alright. Well, Grand Enchanter Fiona has bound the rebel mages in servitude to a Tevinter Magister and he’s involved in a scheme with a cult that wants to kill me.”

There was a pregnant pause.

Rose leaned on the bench to gather her thoughts, disturbing more of the elfroot. “There’s a lot to unpack in what you just said. A Tevinter Magister? That’s fucking madness.”

Della continued to wave the sickle around as she spoke. “I want to go and confront him, foil his scheme.”

“I’ve heard of Fiona, of course. She has a reputation as a formidable mage and a shrewd tactician, so I’d guess if she’s made this decision then she’s been manipulated in some way. Confronting this Magister seems like a decent idea, so long as you have support.” Rose stood on tiptoes to fetch a few large glass jars down from a shelf and began piling her separated ingredients into them.

“Yes, I do.” Della paused and focused her efforts on slicing a particularly tricky stalk. “Cullen was dead against it, but we wore him down. I wanted to see if you had any insights into the mage situation there. Solas has no fucking clue and Vivvy thinks they’re all about to pop up into demons at any moment.”

Rose laughed and shook her head. “Speaking of formidable mages, you know yesterday Vivienne froze a soldier she overheard calling her Vivvy? I had to unfreeze him.”

Della got a faraway look in her big blue eyes. “Shit like that makes me wish I could do magic. The threat of demon possession I could do without, but human icicles? Fuck yeah.”

“I’ve never heard someone say they’d voluntarily want to be a mage,” replied Rose, her voice dry. “How the world has changed.”

“Oh!” Della slammed her hand down on the bench for emphasis and made the ends of the blood lotus roll to the floor. She swore under her breath and knelt to collect the errant buds. “That reminds me, I meet a remarkable mage named Dorian Pavus when I was in Redcliffe. A genuine Tevinter Altus and the prettiest man you’ll ever see.”

Rose very deliberately did not acknowledge the thought of Cullen that arose at Della’s talk of an attractive man. “Oh yes?” she said neutrally.

Della fluttered her eyelashes as she stood up and dumped two handfuls of blood lotus back in a pile. “So pretty. Not, I suspect, interested in the likes of us.”

Rose studied the Herald through narrowed eyes, looking for commonalities in their appearances. “Not interested in people with blue eyes? Women? Women wearing breeches? Sensible shoes?”

“Women. Though sensible shoes might also be true.” Della thought of something and perked up. “Have you seen that Warden who came back from Hinterlands with us?”

Rose thought for a moment. “Dark hair, impressive beard, hairy? Blackguard was it?

“Blackwall.” The Herald faked a swoon. “By the stone I want to climb him and ride him like the stallion he is.”

“Maybe he feels the same way? Have you, ah, made a move on him?”

Della looked morose. “I already tried. He said he respects me too much for, and I’m quoting him here, a casual encounter. He hardly knows me, not sure why he respects me so much.” She shook her head sadly. “I’m never going to get laid.”

Rose carefully poked several sticks of the elfroot stalk so they were standing upright in the jar. “Well, perhaps he needs a little romance?”

“Like what?” said the dwarven woman, looking blank.

“Like…” Rose screwed a lid on the jar and dredged up what she’d read of romance from her distant memories. “Flowers? Poetry? Naming one of your knives after him?”

Della contemplated what Rose had suggested. “Your ideas are all shit, Healer. Except possibly the knife. Not much room for romance in the Circle, huh?”

Her customary close-up view of Martin’s desk loomed large in Rose’s mind. Her swift and curt dismissal as soon as he was finished with her. Their relationship had been many things, but Rose was quite sure romance didn’t feature.

Rose made a face. “You might say that. We at least had a good library with plenty of novels.”

Della gazed thoughtfully at Rose. “What about you? Fucking our golden Commander yet?”

“No Herald, I’m not in a relationship with anyone. Nor would I want to be. Anyway, after what I said to him in the war room, I doubt we’re even friends anymore.” Rose selected a pot of rendered nug grease as she talked, scooping several plops into the elfroot leaf jar. She tried not to wince at the smell.

Della had no such compunction. “What the fuck is that? It smells like greased death. Ugh.” She abandoned her efforts with the blood lotus and pulled the green scarf she was wearing so it was over her nose. “Anyway, he walked you to the Infirmary afterwards. I saw you, you were holding one of his endless fucking supply of monogrammed handkerchiefs.”

Rose quickly added some pure alcohol to the mixture then screwed the lids back on the various containers. “We did, ah, bump into each other behind the Chantry.”

“And I’m sure he understands you lashed out because it upset you that the leaders of this heretical organisation thought it was a good idea to make your abusive bastard of a father aware of where you and your child were.” Della’s muffled voice was gentle, by her standards.

Rose gave a rueful laugh. “That’s one way of putting it, yes.”

Della removed her scarf and sniffed the air. Satisfied, she resumed slicing the blood lotus. “We could organise an assassination, you know. On the down low. Hand control of House Trevelyan to you and young Ivy.”

Rose raised her eyebrows and regarded the Herald. “Well, that’s certainly not something anyone has offered me before.”

“I have contacts. I’m even acquainted with a sexy ex-Crow with an abiding fondness for dwarves. Particularly enjoyed being the elven meat in a dwarven sandwich, he used to say.” Della got a distant look in her eye and sighed happily. “Anyway, one knife between the ribs, then poof…” Della mimed a body falling to the ground, “we solve all of your problems.”

Rose placed the leaf mixture on a shelf to steep. “If my father tries to come here and take Ivy, I’ll stop him by any means necessary, but if he stays in Ostwick, I’d rather he was just left alone. I’ve got my own life now, I’m doing important work here.”

“Fair enough, tell me if you change your mind. And if the bastard comes here, my daggers are at your disposal. You don’t want the blood of your own father on your hands. Unless you do….”

Rose fiddled awkwardly with some pruning shears. “I… that’s a very generous offer, thank you.”

Della finished her work with the blood lotus and set her sickle down on the bench with a flourish. “We need to head out again tomorrow. I’d better go and pack my gear.”

“So soon? I thought you’d need more time to prepare for Redcliffe.”

“We need to go to the Storm Coast first. There’s a merc group called the Chargers who want to hire on to the Inquisition.”

Rose tilted her head questioningly. “You’re hiring mercenaries?”

Della gave Rose a hearty pat on the back, causing the human woman to stagger forward a step. “This lot come highly recommended. Thanks for the chat, Rose.”

 

***

 

“And when they sighted land, Lucky could see a HUGE dragon flying over the shore, roaring his strength and anger at the ship that dared to intrude on his domain.” That evening Rose sat cross legged on the floor of her tent, holding the book she was reading aloud on her lap, while three children and one cat sprawled on the ground in front of her. Magelights twinkled on the roof of the tent, echoing the stars that sat in the un-breached portions of the night sky. “Lucky was afraid, but then he remembered his family back in Ferelden, and he knew that they would want him to face the dragon. Lucky could see that the beast had ENORMOUS CLAWS…” Rose pretended that her left hand had claws, and she waggled her fingers at the children. Mari squeaked and hid her face behind her hands, peeking out between her fingers. “He had MASSIVE sharp teeth…” Rose bared her teeth, “and the LOUDEST roar that Lucky had ever heard.” She made a roaring noise and the children all giggled.

“Mama?” said Ivy when she had stopped laughing.

Rose smiled at her daughter. “Yes Ivy?”

“Why do dragons roar?” Ivy fixed Rose with a gimlet eye.

Rose considered the question. “Ahh, that’s the sound they make. Like how Lucky the Mabari barks and whines in the book.”

Mari put her thumb in her mouth and laid her head gently on the sleeping Messere Fluffy. “Fuff,” she said indistinctly.

Ivy nodded sagely. “That’s a good question, Mari. Why do cats meow, Mama?”

“For the same reason dragons roar and dogs bark. That’s one way they communicate.”

Ivy looked thoughtful. “Okay. How did they know there would be a dragon there?”

“They didn’t,” said Daven impatiently. “They were just lucky. Lucky was lucky.”

Ivy frowned. “But how did…”

“Ivy,” Rose interrupted her. “Let me read the story, we’ll do questions afterwards, okay?”

“Okay,” Ivy acquiesced, looking mulish.

“Otay,” said Mari around the thumb in her mouth.

Rose looked back at the book, squinting in the dim light. “Lucky jumped around the deck of the ship, barking loudly. Here was a chance to prove himself! Here was a chance to capture a dragon all the way across the Amaranthine Ocean and prove to all of Thedas that Mabari were the strongest and proudest of all animals.”

“Mama?” said Ivy.

Rose stifled a sigh. “Yes Ivy?”

“Why is the floor of a boat called a deck?”

“ _Teldirthalelan esa'ma'lin_ ,” Daven muttered darkly, flopping onto his back in apparent frustration.

Rose wasn’t entirely sure of Daven’s phrasing but could hazard an educated guess. “Daven, don’t be rude. And Ivy, questions after the story, yes?”

Ivy stuck her lower lip out, but said “Yes Mama.”

After finishing the chapter, Rose kissed the children goodnight. Mari had already fallen asleep embracing the quietly snoring Messere Fluffy, so Rose tucked the blankets around them.

“ _On nydha,_ goodnight, _ar lath 'ma Mamae Rose_ ,” Daven whispered sleepily.

Rose ruffled his hair curly affectionately and kissed his cheek. “ _Ar lath 'ma tas_ , Daven, sleep well.”

“Are you going to sleep too, Mama?” murmured Ivy.

Rose moved to crouch beside Ivy’s bedroll. “No, I’m going to sit by the camp fire just outside the tent and eat some of that lovely stew for my dinner. I’ll come to bed a little later, after you are asleep.”

“Mama, is my name Lady Ivy now?” Ivy’s voice was very soft.

Rose paused, her heart beating faster. “No sweetling,” she replied, keeping her voice even. “Your name is still just Ivy, same as mine is still just Rose.”

“Okay Mama. I love you.”

Rose kissed her forehead. “I love you too.”

In the crisp night air outside their tent, Rose ate her stew slowly, savouring the flavour of the tender meat and dumplings. She stared into the small camp fire as she did, letting the flickering flames calm her mind after the turmoil of recent days.

_Lady Trevelyan. No. Not anymore._

The sound of someone clearing their throat made her look up. Commander Cullen was standing awkwardly at the edge of the light that the fire produced. He looked unwell, to her practiced eye, with the slight hunch that often indicated a bad headache, though it was hard to tell under his voluminous mantle.

“Commander,” she said by way of greeting, “was there something I could help you with?”

He looked a little shifty. “May I have a word with you?”

Rose gestured to the space on the blanket she was sitting on. “You are welcome to join me.”

He sat down beside her, slightly stiff in his breastplate. “Thank you,” he said, sounding a little hoarse.

She studied his appearance, then pointed at the stew pot above the fire with her spoon. “Have some food, Cullen, you look bloody awful. Like you haven’t eaten properly in days.”

“I…” he hesitated. “Alright, if you’ve got some to spare.”

“Daven made it, with Val’s help, before I finished my shift at the Infirmary.” Rose handed Cullen one of the bowls she’d wiped clean after the children had their dinner. “He’s not quite ten summers old and already a far better cook than I.”

Cullen helped himself to a serving, then took a spoonful of the stew and dumpling. He hummed in appreciation as he tasted it. “Ferelden lamb and pea stew, but with actual flavour. It’s even brown instead of grey. Remarkable,” he said, his voice dry.

Rose laughed and took a mouthful. “When we go back home,” she said after she’d swallowed, “Daven is taking over the cooking duties. He undoubtedly has a talent for it. Flavour and all.”

The flap of the tent parted and Messere Fluffy’s striped face poked out. He chirped at Rose then trotted over to sit beside her, leaning against her thigh. There was a slight pause, then Mari came toddling out of the tent, with a smile that was soon interrupted by a large yawn.

“Tullen,” she said sleepily, blinking at the Commander as she stepped into the light from the fire. “Hup.”

Rose shook her head as she huffed a laugh. “How does she always know where you are?”

Cullen held his arms out and the little girl staggered over to him. He hoisted her onto his lap and she snuggled against him, headless of his armour.

“Is this alright?” he said to Rose, “or should she go back to bed?”

Rose made a gesture of dismissal with her spoon. “She won’t go back to sleep right away now, better to let her fall asleep in your arms.”

They sat in companionable silence, finishing their meals. Cullen awkwardly now he only had one free hand. He patted Mari’s back, seemingly gathering his thoughts.

“I need your utmost discretion in this,” he said eventually.

Rose took his bowl and wiped it clean, disturbing Messere Fluffy who stalked over to the other side of the fire, pointedly sitting with his back to Rose. “You have it, of course you do. I’m a physician, not a gossip monger.”

Cullen looked down at Mari as she stirred, mostly asleep, sprawled over his legs. “I don’t mean to imply you’d gossip. More, that I need you to keep this entirely to yourself. You can’t discuss it with Nurse Kalara or Adan to get a second opinion, for example. Nor Herald Cadash, I know you are friendly with her.”

“If that’s what you need, it’s fine. I’m happy to maintain complete confidentiality.” Rose stacked the dishes neatly and sat back down, leaning on her hand as she turned to look at Cullen.

“I haven’t seen you out training in the mornings,” he said abruptly.

Rose blinked in surprise. “I rather thought you’d prefer not to see me, after what I said to you.”

“It was nothing more than I deserved,” he said, absently rocking Mari from side to side. “I gather one of the templars from Ostwick was your lover?”

Rose frowned. “This is a dizzying array of topic changes, Cullen. But yes, one of them was Ivy’s father. Where are you going with this?”

Cullen looked profoundly disturbed. “You could have been made Tranquil for having a… ah, liaison with a templar.” He grimaced. “Regardless, how acquainted are you with the effects of lyrium upon templars?”

“I helped look after some of the older templars when their senility began to have a noticeable effect, before they were sent to Greenfell retreat. They didn’t want us to examine them magically, but I helped with sponge baths, changed their bed pans, fed them pain relieving potions when they were in distress. I talked to my brother about it, I know that if he was delayed in taking a dose, he had terrible pain.”

She would never forget the changes in Rowan that she could see, after years as a templar. The frantic energy he’d have shortly after his morning dose. His sluggishness and slurred speech if he stayed up too late at night as the lyrium began to wear off.  The knawing pain and horror he described if he didn’t take the lyrium in a timely manner.

Rose stopped and looked closely at Cullen again. He’d adopted a tight expression when she mentioned Rowan’s reaction to a delayed lyrium intake.

She sat up suddenly as a thought occurred to her. “You’ve stopped taking lyrium,” she breathed, looking at the former templar with wide eyes. “That’s fucking insane. How are you still functioning?”

He gave a wry laugh at her reaction, disturbing Mari who grumbled in her sleep. “Sheer bloody-mindedness I suppose. I will not be chained to the Chantry any longer.”

Rose was still staring at him intently, looking for signs of illness. “When did you stop? Shit Cullen, I’ve never heard that this was possible.”

“Before I left Kirkwall. Some months ago now. And I’ve never been made aware of anyone else stopping lyrium voluntarily. All those I knew who were forced to leave the Order died if they couldn’t procure a regular dose.”

“Who else knows about this?”

“Only Cassandra. Though Leliana has probably figured it out.”

Rose looked up at the turbulent sky to gather her thoughts, then back at Cullen. “What symptoms are you experiencing?”

“The headaches and dizziness are the most severe, that’s what I wanted to see you about. Fatigue. Nausea.“

Rose sat back. “Maker’s balls. You’re brave, I’ll give you that. Bloody-mindedness indeed.” She tapped her finger on her lip as she looked at him, considering her options. “Can I use magic on you? Just for an examination.”

Cullen winced, very slightly, but kept his gaze on her as he held the sleeping toddler to him more firmly. “Y… yes. Yes, magic will be fine.”

She wiggled closer and knelt beside his leg. “I promise I won’t turn you into a spider,” she whispered to break the tension in the air.

Cullen looked startled, then smiled. “I… thank you? I think.”

She regarded him. “Can I touch your face? It’s easiest to be close to the source of the trouble.”

He gave her a short nod, wincing as the movement pained him.

Rose stroked Mari’s tousled hair back from her sleeping face, smiling down at the child. She then reached up and put her hand on Cullen’s forehead, grasping her magic and shutting her eyes as she did so. He flinched, and she opened her eyes. “Do you want me to stop? Is it my touch or my magic that’s making you uncomfortable?”

“I am…” He paused and licked his lips nervously, “It’s not your touch. I am somewhat wary of the close proximity of magic to my body. I’d rather not discuss it. Please continue, I’m fine.”

Rose nodded, and focused on him, wanting to get the examination concluded as soon as possible for his comfort. His skin was burning hot, clearly feverish. Rose let her magic wash over him, getting a sense of the state of his body. There was a wrongness to him, his body was over-stimulated trying to compensate to the absence of something, presumably the lyrium it depended on.

It was disturbingly nice, being so close to him. She’d been this close to patients many times and not felt anything more than professional curiosity. Those patients hadn’t been tenderly cradling her adopted child while smelling like an appealing mixture of leather, armour polish and oakmoss, of all things.

 _For the love of the Maker, Rose,_ she thought crossly, _get it together. Della’s wild theories about me and Cullen have clearly been having an effect. He doesn’t need me acting like an idiot caught in the thrall of a bloody desire demon._

Rose removed her hand but stayed kneeling beside him. “Your body was used to taking the lyrium for so long, stopping has sent your humours all out of balance. The symptoms are your body trying to adjust and get everything back to an acceptable equilibrium.”

Cullen hummed an agreement. “I thought it might be like that, but I’ll admit, I’m finding the headaches somewhat… trying.”

“I can send a healing spell through you, that should take the edge off. The way you’ve stopped suddenly has shocked your body, causing the overcompensation. I can try to ease the symptoms, but your body needs to do the rest. To what extent it’ll ultimately resolve I’m uncertain.”

Cullen have her another nod accompanied by a wince. She gently touched his forehead again, this time with just her fingertips, and sent a pulse of healing energy through him.

“I’ll devise a potion for you to take, which should do much the same as magical healing but might be more comfortable for you. No magic and no man-handling.”

He let out a breath. “Thank you. I appreciate this.”

“You need to eat though, and try to get enough sleep,” Rose said sternly. “The more stress you put your body under the harder it will be for you to recover.”

They simultaneously looked up at the breach, glowing ominously in the night sky.

Rose gave a small laugh. “Okay yes, that might be easier said than done for the Commander of the Inquisition forces.”

“Indeed,” Cullen said ruefully. “Well, thank you for your assistance. I should get back to my paperwork.” He paused and looked at Mari, who was drooling on his vambraces in her sleep. “Shall I carry Mari to bed?”

Rose gestured towards the tent. “Go ahead, just don’t stand on one of the other children.” She smiled as Cullen awkwardly got to his feet without disturbing Mari. “Do you need me to conjure a magelight?”

He shook his head. “The firelight is fine.”

Rose held the tent flap open and Messere Fluffy darted in. Cullen ducked into the space, surprisingly nimbly for such a big man. Rose watched as he carefully placed Mari on her little bedroll and covered her with a blanket. Messere Fluffy flopped down by her feet and stretched out so he was taking up more space than the little girl.

Cullen backed delicately out of the tent. “Thank you for again for your help,” he said when they were standing back beside the fire.

“I’ll work on a more specific potion for you. In the meantime I’ll organise a selection of healing potions for you to provide relief when needed. But remember, the worst thing you can do to your body is to overextend yourself.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. And I appreciate your discretion, Healer. Rose.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Teldirthalelan esa'ma'lin means ‘stupid sibling’  
> Ar lath 'ma means ‘I love you’ and Ar lath 'ma tas means ‘I love you also’
> 
> Thanks to [Project Elvhen!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3553883?view_full_work=true)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely readers - just a quick warning for anyone who is particularly squeamish and/or eating while they read, there are a few (brief) mentions of dysentery in this chapter.

Cullen’s lips moved with agonising slowness over her neck. He nuzzled into the crook of her neck and shoulder and she felt the scrape of his stubble over her tender skin.

She clutched his broad shoulders, feeling the muscles under his naked skin bunching in tension as he held her close. She lifted one hand to run it through his silky hair, the carefully styled waves getting disrupted into loose golden ringlets.

He pushed her shirt further down past her shoulders, humming in appreciation as he exposed her breasts to the cold night air. Her nipples tightened in response. He trailed his mouth down her soft skin, then sucked her nipple into his mouth as she whimpered with the pleasure. No-one had ever touched her like this before. She moaned again as he pushed her down to lie on the bedroll, moving on top of her to slip his thigh between her legs. She shamelessly ground herself against him.

“You love it,” he whispered in her ear.

Rose turned her face so she could kiss along his jawline. “Cullen,” she breathed his name against his skin.

“Let me in.” His voice was filled with desire. “Let me inside you. Tell me you want me.”

Rose went very still. She looked up at Cullen, who was regarding her with lust-filled purple eyes.

She pushed the Desire demon off her body with all her strength and scrambled to her feet. “Fuck!” she rasped. “Fucking, fuck.”

The demon smirked at her, scarred lips twisting in amusement. “Lost for words, mage?”

“Fuck.” Rose caught her breath, while she fumbled her shirt closed.

“I have to tell you,” the Cullen-demon said conversationally, sitting back on the bedroll and regarding her with an impassive expression, “you were probably a lot more attractive before you had a child. Those marks where your skin stretched to accommodate the brat aren’t nice at all.”

“Fuck off, demon,” snarled Rose, ducking out of the tent and into the Fade-version of the refugee camp.

Solas was sitting by her fire, intent on contemplating the wispy echoes of flames that burned there. The elf looked up at her and gave her a long, level stare. His eyebrows raised imperceptibly as the Cullen-demon followed her out of the tent.

_Well this is embarrassing. It’s like being back in the Circle, always being scrutinised. Why do I feel like Solas has caught me having sex with another apprentice in a supply cupboard?_

Rose cleared her throat awkwardly. “I seem to have something of a problem with this Desire demon.” She kept her voice calm though her heart was still racing from its touch.

“So I see, Healer Rose,” said Solas. “Though I came to this part of the Fade to discuss your dreams, if you are willing. I am relieved matters did not get out of hand with this creature.”

Rose felt her cheeks go warm. The Cullen-demon stepped closer to her, reaching out its hand as if to caress her. Solas muttered a few words in Elven, something about ‘being gone’ as far as Rose understood, then he gestured at the creature and it disappeared.

There was a lengthy pause. Rose resisted the urge to shuffle her feet like a nervous apprentice.

“ _Ladarelan,_ ” Solas said eventually, “we have barely spoken since I tended your wounds at the Crossroads. I have heard that you are learning to speak Elven.”

_Yes, this is a safe topic. Safer than the Cullen-demon, anyway._

“ _Vin te'son_ , yes that is right. Daven’s parents were Dalish, so I thought it was important for him to keep speaking the language.”

Solas steepled his fingers in front of his chest. “And you call him your son now? Even though he is an elf.”

Rose frowned and paced beside the fire. “I took him in after templars murdered his parents. They gave their lives so he could escape when the templars attacked their home. He ran to my cabin, but when I went back to see if I could help, his parents were dead. He wanted to stay with us, and I wanted to keep him safe.”

“And those people who judge your choice to have a filthy knife-ear in your family?”

“Don’t call him that,” said Rose sharply. “People who think he shouldn’t be part of our family can go and fuck themselves.”

Solas nodded and gave Rose another searching look. “I apologise for the questions. I simply wanted to get a grasp on what kind of person I was dealing with.”

Rose blinked, startled by his words. “Right. Did I pass?”

Solas gestured for her to sit beside him.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Rose muttered.

“I have noticed the presence of demons in your dreams for some time, but they seem to be getting harder for you to control.”

“They have become, ah, increasingly tenacious, yes.”

“I believe Circle teaching is that you should merely keep saying no. This is crude, but effective against the less persistent creatures they label as demons. As you’ve no doubt realised, it is far less efficacious with more powerful demons or when the mage is, shall we say, unsettled in some way.”

The image of Cullen, the real Cullen, holding little Mari while she slept came to mind. Rose clenched her fists and dug her nails into her palms. The affection she felt remembering the scene sat heavy on her chest.

She gathered her thoughts. “Aren’t we all unsettled? There is a hole in the sky.”

Solas looked between the tent and her, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “There are many reasons why mages might attract more unwanted attention in the Fade than usual.”

Rose ignored his implication and frowned. “Why do you want to help me?”

“You may downplay your magical abilities, but I am aware of your power. The Inquisition would be weaker without a physician of your skill and talent. Conversely, if your experiences in the Fade were to be an undue influence on you, the subsequent consequences to Haven would be catastrophic.”

“You want to prevent me becoming an abomination?” Rose had seen a mage become an abomination before, only the once but once was more than enough for one lifetime.

“I would not word it quite like that, but in essence that is correct.” Solas’ expression was totally bland, as if they were discussing something utterly innocuous, like the type of scones they would have for afternoon tea or the colour of his socks.

Rose barked a laugh. “Aright. Thank you for your offer Solas, I would appreciate the help.”

Solas gave her a respectful nod. “I will run you through some simple exercises in Fade energy manipulation. Observe.”

When Rose woke up in the morning her mind was reeling with all the information. She felt better upon waking than she had in a long time. There was a long way to go in furthering her knowledge on the Fade, but at least she’d made a start.

 

***

 

Rose eyed the large box of beeswax that now sat on a shelf in the potion room. Sera had procured it from… somewhere. Rose didn’t ask too many questions when she got the materials she needed. If she condoned Kalara purloining ingredients from Adan’s supplies, then she couldn’t very well judge the young elven woman and her unconventional methods of obtaining resources.

She took a basket with some beeswax, a jug of witch hazel and bottles of elderflower and elfroot oil outside to the campfire outside the infirmary building. She busied herself making the liniment mixture, melting the beeswax over the fire, then adding witch hazel and elderflower oil.

_Hopefully this will give Cullen some relief from his symptoms. If nothing else, it’ll make him smell pleasingly of elderflowers._

She was absorbed in her task when a large Qunari with an eye patch came over to the fire, accompanied by a dark-skinned human man.

“Hey.” The Qunari man greeted her cheerfully. “You one of the healers around here?”

Rose stood up from stirring the mixture and wiped the sweat off her forehead with her sleeve, then held out her hand for him to shake. “Yes, I’m Rose.”

He grasped her small hand with his huge one. “The Iron Bull, but Bull is fine. This here is Stitches, the medic for our mercenary company. We got here last night.”

Rose shook Stitches’ hand too. “Ah yes, Herald Cadash mentioned she was going to hire you. How can I help you?”

“I wanted to offer my services for when we are in Haven,” said Stitches, flashing her a winning smile. “I figured an extra pair of hands would always be helpful.”

“Yes, that would be welcome,” said Rose, resuming her efforts in stirring the unguent. “What are your specialities?”

Stitches leaned over to see what she was making. “Battlefield medicine, for obvious reasons. Potions and poultices. I smell witch hazel and elderflower, is this a mixture for headaches or swelling?”

“He also makes a mean cheese fondue,” interjected Bull. “It’s an eastern Orlesian thing, cubes of bread dipped in a melted cheese mixture.” The big man narrowed his eye and smiled in apparent fond remembrance.

Stitches laughed. “That I do. Medicine for the soul, not simply the body.”

“This is for headaches,” said Rose levering the pot with the liquid off the fire. She set it on the ground and conjured ice glyphs on the outside of the cast iron, then flicked them with her forefinger to activate. She stirred the cooling mixture. “And cheese fondue sounds delicious.”

“Mage, eh,” said Bull, exchanging a glance with Stitches and sounding intrigued. “Good to see the Inquisition will put mages in important positions.”

Rose snorted. “I’d hardly say I was important. Only noticeable because of the previous lack of skilled magical healing.”

“Healer Rose,” Nurse Kalara hurried over to her. “Thank the stone you are still here. I can’t keep up with the cleaning down in the isolation tent. Too many patients. The floor is a Paragon-damned slick of diarrhoea.”

Rose kept stirring the salve, watching it emulsify. “Send for frost mages to freeze and help dispose of the waste and fire mages to heat water to boil any soiled linens. Get soldiers to dig a temporary latrine trench if needed. And make sure the staff to keep washing their hands, I’ve read that dirt can help the flux spread.”

Kalara nodded slowly. “Washing hands? That sounds Orlesian. There might be resistance. I’ll pass on your instructions. Force people to do it.”

Rose spread some liniment on the back of her hand. It was soothing and pleasant. “Thank you Kalara. I’ve finished the foxmint potions too, they are on the table in the potion room. That should help the patients rehydrate. Is there anyone who needs urgent magical healing?”

Kalara shook her head. “It’s a matter of fluids. A regular clean up too.”

“Alright, I’ll be down to check on the patients when I’ve finished up here.”

“Need a hand?” Bull said, looking at the two women.

“How are you with shovelling frozen shit?” said Rose, raising an eyebrow.

The big man grinned. “My shit shovelling skills are unparalleled. Come on Stitches, let’s help this lovely lady.”

Stitches gave Kalara a gallant bow and gestured with a flourish. “Lead the way, my Lady.”

The elderly dwarf blushed pink then cackled. “Well now. I’m glad I came up here. Two such handsome men. If only I were fifty years younger.”

Rose laughed as Kalara shepherded the two men off, chatting happily to them. She ladled the now cold liniment into a pot and headed off to check on her patients.

 

***

 

Later that day Rose and the children were passing a pleasant evening sitting beside the campfire with the goats.

“See Mama?” said Ivy. “They are much happier having a nice visit with us.”

Rose exchanged a glance with Ser Betsy. Baby Apples was perched on her mother’s back, emitting the occasional excited bleat. Ser Betsy had a long-suffering expression on her face. Rose sympathised entirely.

“It is lovely spending time with the goats,” Rose said, “but they will need to go back to the stables after dinner.”

Ivy wrinkled her nose. “But they would love to stay in the tent with us.”

“Sweetling, Jonty would eat the tent.”

“And he makes bad smells when he’s had too many apples,” muttered Daven.

They all turned to look at Jonty. He was midway through consuming a large red apple.

“Where did you get that from?” exclaimed Rose. “We don’t even have any apples.”

Ivy looked scandalised. “He stole it! Bad boy, Jonty! You are a terrible thief.”

Mari pointed at Jonty and frowned ferociously. “BAD DONTY,” she said.

“Bleehh,” said Jonty, chunks of ill-gotten apple spilling from his mouth.

Rose squinted at Jonty and sighed. “Alright, let’s have dinner now so we can take our criminal goats back to the stables afterwards.”

She shuffled forward on her knees so she could spoon stew, heavy on the turnips, into a bowl for Mari. She gave the contents a rough mash and then drew a small ice glyph on the ground, setting the bowl on top for it to cool. Ivy and Daven both accepted large bowls of the stew and sat down to eat, watched intently by the goats.

“Healer Rose,” said a familiar voice.

Rose handed Mari’s now cool bowl to the eager toddler and looked up. “Seeker Cassandra,” she said to the woman who had appeared. “What can I do for you?”

Cassandra nodded a greeting, though she looked pensive. “I wonder if I might have a moment of your time?”

Rose stood up. “Of course,” she said, moving behind where Ser Betsy and Apples were standing, so they might talk in semi-privacy.

“Commander Cullen mentioned he had told you about his… issue.”

Rose hummed an agreement. “Yes, I’ve been sending him healing potions. I’ve got liniment for him to try too, to relieve his headaches.”

 “I’m concerned about him,” the Seeker said in a low, tense, voice. “I visited him a short time ago and he’s slurring his words. He says he is quite well but is refusing to stand up or move anywhere.”

“Stubborn man.” Rose shook her head. “Okay, if you can stay with the children and goats, I’ll go and see him.”

Cassandra looked alarmed. “Stay with the children?”

“I can’t just up and leave them,” Rose said reasonably. “You could always ask around the camp here if another family can spare someone to watch them.” She ducked into the tent to grab her medical satchel.

She emerged to see the Seeker eyeing the children like they were a particularly disorderly group of feral nugs. “I can watch the children. And the goats.” The other woman’s voice was resolute.

“They are easy to manage, Cassandra. You just need to keep everyone alive until I get home.” Despite her concern for Cullen, Rose’s lips twitched upwards in a smile. “Ivy and Daven are house-trained and if you are worried about Mari, just keep one hand holding the back of her tunic at all times. Ser Betsy and young Apples are fine, and all you need to do with Jonty is make sure he doesn’t steal any food.”

“Jonty is a naughty robber, but we love him so much,” said Ivy, sounding serious.

To one side of the fire, Mari shoved a double handful of mashed turnip into her mouth, smearing a large proportion over her chin and cheeks.

“And you’ll need to give Mari a wipe down after dinner,” Rose called over her shoulder as she headed off to a chorus of farewells from the children, bleating of goats and a groan from Cassandra.

Rose made her way to the main army camp. There was no response when she tried to alert Cullen to her presence as she reached his tent, so she let herself in. He had slumped forward at his desk, either unconscious or asleep. Rose swore under her breath and hurried over to him. He was still breathing but didn’t rouse when she shook his shoulder. She touched his forehead and sent a wave of generalised magical healing through him. She sensed how dehydrated he was, which might explain the unconsciousness.

Cullen’s eyelids fluttered, and he carefully pushed himself back into a sitting position.

Rose folded her arms and scowled down at him. “I seem to recall we very recently had a conversation about taking care of yourself, Commander.”

She didn’t wait for a response, instead she stalked over to the entrance of the large tent and stuck her head out, summoning the nearest soldier and requesting they fetch food and drink.

She turned back to Cullen, who was scrubbing his hands over his face. “You need to lie down to recover. I’ll help you with your armour and boots.”

He shook his head. “There is too much to do.”

Rose stood beside him, hands on her hips. “You stupid man, you fainted.” Rose tried and failed to keep her voice dispassionate. She heard herself sounding vexed. “I won’t use my magic against you, but I can and will set that desk on fire. I’m not even any good at fire, but believe me Cullen, I am currently very motivated.”

Cullen rubbed the back of his neck and sighed heavily. “I’m the Commander of the Inquisition, Rose. I’m doing my job. The Herald is walking into a trap set by a Tevinter Magister and I need to ensure our plan is perfect.”

“Surely you’d rather live through this experience?” Rose held out her hand for his cloak. He grimaced then unfastened it with trembling fingers and handed it to her. “You aren’t any good to the Inquisition if the lack of lyrium incapacitates you, or worse. You certainly can’t triple check your plans while you are unconscious.” She angrily shook the cloak out and draped it over a chest.

Cullen leaned forward and banged his fist on his desk. Some papers fluttered to the floor. “I was a part of the Order since I was thirteen. I have many, many years of their, no, our wrongs against mages and my own failings to make up for. It is vital I do this job to the best of my ability.”

Rose jumped at his unexpected display of temper. He looked at her and the raw emotion on his face almost made her take a step back. She desperately wished this was a problem she could fix. A problem she might do more than provide temporary solutions for.

Rose pinched the bridge of her nose between her forefinger and thumb. She was getting a headache herself.

_Stubborn bloody man._

“I understand your point, though I don’t agree you need to singlehandedly work yourself to death over this. You came to me, Commander, and told me about what you are trying to do. You can’t do that and not expect me to do my job as a physician.”

He nodded reluctantly. “I can’t afford to fail at this.”

“If anyone can do this, you can. Now here is what I recommend you do tonight. One, armour, cloak and boots off.” Rose counted on her fingers. “Two, have something to eat and drink. Three, we try out the liniment I made for your headaches. Four, if you are still in pain I magically heal you again and that should help you sleep. Which is step five. Then I go back and rescue Cassandra from my children.”

Cullen looked up at her with an expression of consternation. “Cassandra sent you?”

“She was worried when she saw you earlier this evening.” Rose bent down to pick up the scattered papers, placing them neatly back on his desk.

“I don’t remember talking to her.” Cullen’s jaw clenched, and he scowled at her. “Fine, I agree to your plan.”

She glowered back and then knelt beside him, softening her expression. “Here, I’ll assist you with the straps for your armour.”

She carefully set each piece of armour on the stand in the corner of his tent, like her brother used to do. He studied her closely but made no comment about the way she handled his armour.

“I will help you over to the bed so you can sit on that. The food and drink will be here any minute. Not drinking enough makes your humours run too low and can cause you to go unconscious.”

“I’m too heavy.” Cullen eyed her skinny arms dubiously.

“I’m stronger than I look. Years of hauling children around.”

He stood up slowly on shaking legs and Rose put an arm around his waist. He leaned heavily against her and they walked the few steps across the tent.

“You are as weak as a bloody kitten. How have you managed to shout at the soldiers today?”

“No shouting today,” he mumbled. “I didn’t sleep well and woke up with a bad headache. I took the chance to catch up with paperwork while Rylen took care of the training.”

He sat on the edge of his cot, letting his head drop forward and leaning his elbows on his knees.

Rose crouched down and unlaced his boots, then placed them underneath his armour stand. He looked even more vulnerable without boots than he did without his cloak.

The flap of the tent opened, and the young soldier Rose had commandeered to bring food and drink entered. He was carrying a plate with a selection of bread, cheeses and cold meats in one hand and a large mug of ale in the other.

“Always with the ale,” Rose muttered, “bloody Fereldens.” She curtly thanked the soldier and took the food and drink from him, sending the young man on his way.

She put the meal on Cullen’s desk, then dragged his desk chair over to the bed, shifted the plate to the chair and handed Cullen the mug.

He took a chunk of bread with his free hand and looked at her. “Have you had dinner?” He sounded grateful to talk about something other than himself.

Rose shook her head. “Not yet. Cassandra arrived with impeccable timing as I was about to eat.”

He gestured towards the plate. “Help yourself. Private Jenkins has supplied enough for five people. You can sit beside me on the cot.”

Rose helped herself to some cheese and sat gingerly beside him. The cot creaked alarmingly under their combined weight.

“Don’t worry,” Cullen said softly, “it won’t collapse.”

Rose had an unexpected stab of jealousy as to how he knew that. “At least you have a bed,” she said lightly instead. “I sleep on the floor of our tent with a pile of children and a giant cat.”

“You don’t have a cot to sleep in?” Cullen looked startled. “You can requisition one. If there are any issues, I can sort them out.”

Rose swallowed her mouthful of cheese and glared at him. “You don’t need to be sorting anything out at the moment except yourself. Anyway, there wouldn’t be enough room. I don’t mind the sleeping situation, at least we all stay warm. Though Messere Fluffy takes up too much room.”

Cullen placed a slice of cheese and meat into a folded hunk of bread. “That cat of yours has been in to visit me during the day.”

“Really? I always thought he was out hunting in the day time, because he is looking decidedly fat.”

Cullen nodded, offering her the mug of ale. “I’ve caught him sleeping on my cloak before. He must like the fur.”

Rose took a large gulp of ale and handed the mug back to Cullen. “You voluntarily take the cloak off? This is the first time I’ve seen you without it.”

The image of the Cullen-desire demon came hurtling into her mind. The facsimile of his body had most certainly not been wearing a cloak in the Fade. Her cheeks warmed, and she covered the moment by reaching forward to assemble herself a pile of bread and meat.

Cullen rumbled a weak laugh. “I am all too human under the cloak I’m afraid. This experience teaches us that, if nothing else.”

After they had finished the meal, Rose eyed Cullen closely. He was less pale though he still looked drawn. “How are you feeling now?”

“I still have a headache,” he admitted, “though that is more or less constant these days. I’m far less dizzy now I’ve eaten.”

“Earlier today I made some liniment for you to try, it should reduce inflammation and your pain.” Rose walked over to her satchel which she’d left beside the tent flap. She took the pot out of the bag and unscrewed the lid, holding it out for Cullen to sniff. “Do you want to rub it in, or do you want me to?” She tried to sound as neutral as possible.

Cullen looked at her steadily, though his ears were pink. “Could you?”

Rose smiled in what she hoped was a professional way. “Of course.” She cleared her throat. “It is best to rub on the back of your neck and your upper back. May I use magic to cool the pot down? It would work fine without, but it’s best if it’s cold.”

Cullen nodded mutely.

Rose focused on the water within the unguent, trickling Fade energy into it and encouraging it to freeze. “Lie down on your front, so long as it is comfortable.” She cleared the desk chair and sat down while Cullen lay on his front, facing away from her. She scooped a handful of the cold liniment out of the pot.

Cullen flinched as she rubbed the icy mixture into the skin on the back of his neck, then relaxed and sighed as it provided him with relief. His skin was feverishly hot, like it had been last time she’d touched him. She felt him relax under her touch and her heart sped up.

_He’s my patient_ , Rose thought sternly _. He’s only another person I am here to treat, nothing more_.

“Thank you for your assistance,” he murmured.

Rose swallowed. “We’ve got several cases of the bloody flux I’ve had to oversee. Trust me, rubbing liniment on your neck is probably the best thing I’ve had to do today.”

He cleared his throat and blushed. A moment later he turned to look at Rose and gave her a small, wry, smile. “Glad to know I’m more appealing than dysentery.”

“You’re more appealing than a whole host of diseases, Cullen,” she blurted without thinking.

He chuckled and shut his eyes again.

_Wait, was that flirting? Shit._

Rose clamped her mouth shut and concentrated on the treatment. Soon Cullen’s breathing deepened, and he relaxed totally in sleep.

_Maker I wish I could wake up in the night and see that face._

Rose cringed at her inappropriate thoughts. She set the pot of liniment on Cullen’s desk and left the tent as quietly as possible.

The night air was blessedly cold on her burning face and she hurried towards the refugee camp, resolutely keeping her thoughts away from the Commander.

Cassandra sat beside the fire outside her tent, looking stunned. Little Apples was leaning against the warrior’s back, dozing.

She looked up as Rose approached. “They are so chaotic, Rose. The children. How do you manage?”

Rose grinned at her. “You got them off to sleep okay?”

“I recited the Canticle of Trials to them while they tidied the dinner mess away. Then I read aloud two chapters of a dreadful book about an adventuring Mabari and they settled to bed after that.”

“That’s impressive, it sounds like you did perfectly.”

Cassandra let out a long breath. “Ivy had many questions.”

“Yes, she does that.”

“They tried to convince me that the goats should stay in your tent. I remained unconvinced.”

Rose smiled and moved around to pat Jonty. “Wise plan.”

“Daven also fashioned a slingshot from cutlery and was showing Mari how to use it.”

Rose raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Really? He’s normally so well behaved.”

“It was a well-constructed slingshot,” Cassandra said grudgingly. “And the male goat attempted to be… inappropriate with the female goat, but I intervened.”

“Well. You certainly had an exciting evening.” Rose looked down at Jonty, who looked blandly back up at her. She supressed a laugh.

“Is Commander Cullen doing better?” Cassandra stood up and rolled her shoulders. Apples made a high pitched “Mehh” noise at the disruption and trotted over to Ser Betsy.

Rose’s traitorous emotions gave her a little jab of excitement upon hearing Cullen’s name.

_Looks like I’ll be getting plenty of practice in supressing this stupid fucking juvenile and unacceptable crush I apparently have._

“He was asleep when I left,” Rose said. “I’ll keep a closer eye on him and see if I can come up with any more therapies that would help in his recovery.”

“I would appreciate that. Cullen is a good friend, and what he is trying to do is both brave and important.”

“I agree. Ah, would you possibly be able to drop the goats off to the stables on your way back to your tent?”

“That would be acceptable.”

Rose fastened the goats lead ropes and handed the ends to the Seeker. The woman bade each other goodnight and Rose went to settle in her tent, her thoughts busy with the unsettling events of the evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Ladarelan' roughly translates as 'Healer' (with thanks to Project Elvhen)
> 
> Also, the idea of Babysitter!Cassandra made me giggle :D


	11. Chapter 11

Aalidis patted her huge belly as she sat on the edge of a bed in the Infirmary, a broad smile on her face. She was much less gaunt than she had been arriving in Haven, the product of the best nutrition the Inquisition could offer. “I can’t believe I made it this far. You have my eternal gratitude, Healer Rose.”

Rose screwed the lid onto the jar of rosehip and embrium oil blend. “You’ve done well at following instructions.” She shook the jar in the air before handing it to the younger woman. “Apply this all over your belly before you go to sleep at night, it’ll help soothe your skin.”

“Thank you.” Aalidis took the jar from Rose, then looked pensively at the physician. “I’m nervous, I’ve never even attended a birthing. My parents died when I was a baby and my grandmother raised me. I’m so worried about the pain.”

Rose nodded slowly. “Well, childbirth is unimaginably painful.”

Aalidis went pale and emitted a small squeak.

“Ahh, but you get a lovely baby at the end and you instantly forget how awful it was.” Rose tried to sound reassuring. “Nurse Kalara and I are both experienced midwives and we’ll be with you the whole time. And remember, I can use my magic to assist you should you need it.”

“I trust you, it’s just so hard to imagine I’ll soon be holding my baby.” Aalidis stood up with difficulty and stretched her back.

“The final weeks of pregnancy seem like a lifetime. Ivy was late, and I worried about her every day until she was finally in my arms and I could see she was well. I remember Mari’s mother Ellie drank my entire raspberry leaf tea supply in the last month she carried Mari, to try to induce labour, since she went a month past when we thought the baby would come.” Rose’s voice trailed off as she remembered Mari’s parents. The little girl had her mother’s beautiful cerulean blue eyes, but she would have no memory of the parents who had loved her so much, no memory of the joy she had bought to their lives.

She swallowed the lump in her throat.

_So many dead in such a fucking pointless war. All we can do is keep going_.

 Aalidis was looking a little concerned at Rose’s silence, and Rose plastered a smile on her face.

“Try to keep your mind busy and occupied but remember to rest your body. If sleeping on a bedroll proves too uncomfortable, you are welcome to sleep here, come up any time day or night. There is always someone on duty.”

“Thank you, Healer Rose. There is no one I trust more to help me with this. Here, feel, he’s kicking me.”

Rose put her hand on the top of Aalidis’s belly. The baby was stretching its legs out, with two distinct lumps visible under the other woman’s threadbare tunic where the feet were pressing upwards. “The babe is strong and healthy, you’ve done remarkably well.”

She wished Aalidis well and the other woman waddled off back to the army camp. Rose occupied herself checking the patients she’d deemed sick enough to stay in the infirmary. She had almost finished her rounds when Nurse Lin came hurrying in.

“Our Blessed Herald of Andraste has returned to us! And Healer Rose, she has the most delicious looking man with her. He’s so exotic. I think he’s a mage though and mages are not…” she paused and peered at Rose, seemingly remembering the healer’s magical status, “ah, mages are great. Yes indeedy. And now I need to do... something… over here.”

The young woman scurried off in the direction of the potion room and Rose allowed herself a smile, despite the young woman’s almost-comments about mages. She liked Della but describing her as a holy figure always seemed a little on the nose.

_The same Blessed Herald of Andraste who likes to start bar fights and seduce hairy men_. _The former lyrium smuggler with an impressive collection of knives. Competent and dedicated to the Inquisition yes, blessed holy figure no._

After some more time seeing to the patients things were quiet enough for Rose to head over to the Chantry to see if Della had finished debriefing with her advisors. The door to the War Room was firmly shut, with guards outside it and loud voices within.

Rose shook her head and scowled. She headed back outside, intending to grab a drink at the tavern, when a man came up to her outside the Chantry doors.

“Ahh hah, a blue-eyed brunette with distressingly sensible shoes, carrying a satchel and frowning,” the man said cheerfully. “You must be Healer Rose, former apostate and noblewoman with a Tragic Back Story. Della described you perfectly.”

Rose eyed him up and down. “Grey eyes, impeccably groomed hair and an intense moustache. Surrounded by an air of flagrant magic. You must be Altus Dorian, exile and troublemaker. Della also described you.”

“And what a good job she did. Exile and Troublemaker are titles I am proud to claim, and you even knew I wasn’t a Magister. Well done you. Fancy a trip to the tavern? All of the glaring I’m enduring from the good citizens of Haven so soon after travelling to an apocalyptic future is making me thirsty.”

“Actually, I was heading that way, so I’d love to hear about what happened in Redcliffe. I have plans to meet my children there in…” Rose looked up at the sky, “an hour or so. I promised them a special dinner. Well, as special as you get at Flissa’s tavern.”

“Children dining in a tavern? How very Ferelden. Anyway, find me a decent wine and I’ll tell you anything you wish to know. Shall we go?”

Dorian ushered her in the tavern's direction. The Singing Maiden turned out to be sparsely populated at this time of late afternoon. Even Varric wasn’t there. They laid claim to a table big enough for the expected additions.

Rose ordered ale and wine for herself and Dorian respectively, and platters of food for when she expected the children and Val to arrive.

Dorian sniffed his wine when it arrived, then took a sip and swirled it around his mouth before swallowing. “How did a decent Rivaini shiraz make it here, of all places? That tavern keeper must have some impressive contacts.”

Rose took a long drink of her ale. “It was probably Josephine, she’s apparently got contacts everywhere.”

“The delightful Antivan woman with the yellow frills? I must thank her.” Dorian took another sip of wine and regarded Rose. “Della tells me you have amassed quite the collection of war orphans and goats? That’s an interesting hobby, dripping with altruism. The best thing I ever managed to collect was fine wines, but I’m sure they took somewhat less work than children and animals.”

Rose nodded slowly. “Only two orphans, Mari and Daven, the other child, Ivy, is my own.”

Dorian looked astonished and he sat up straighter. “Well, that’s a turn of events. I didn’t think the templars allowed mages in this part of the world to bear children.”

Rose grimaced. “Mages are permitted to give birth, they just aren’t allowed to keep the child. I escaped the Circle and was an apostate for some years for that reason,” she said shortly. The image of Rowan with Knight-Commander Hughes’ longsword through his chest was skirting the edges of her mind.

Dorian’s expression was soft, and he toasted her. “As good a reason as any to escape one of those Fade-cursed Circles. Well done, my dear.”

Rose half-heartedly toasted him back. “So, apocalyptic future? Is that a euphemism for something?” she said, keen to change to subject away from memories of her dead brother and the treatment of mages.

“No, I was being quite literal. Magister Alexius experimented with time travel magic for the noblest of intentions with predictably appalling outcomes.” Dorian took another drink of his wine and shook his head sadly.

Rose frowned. “That’s not possible.”

“It was always theoretically possible my dear. Just very difficult. The Magister himself was my former mentor, we worked on it together. His son Felix is unwell, he used our research to try to cure him.” Dorian’s voice turned quiet at the end and his shoulders slumped.

“So you both literally travelled to the future? Shit.”

Dorian drew himself up again. “Alexius’ time spell swept the Herald and I into a bleak future a year from now. All of Redcliffe castle was infected with a type of lyrium that was red, of all things. We saw people, including the Herald’s companions, who it had infected like a poison.”

“That’s fucked up. How did you get back?”

“We defeated Alexius in the future, and I used his amulet to send us back to the point where we left. It was a tremendous piece of magic that sadly no one was able to appreciate. Mostly our lovely Herald swore a lot.”

“Time travel magic. I’m impressed you both made it back.” Rose huffed a long breath out. “That kind of magical experimentation is unknown here. My prized possession is a copy of _Et Quod Sanguis et Humores Humanum Anatomia Elvhen_ , from Tevinter. It has much more in-depth information than anything sanctioned by the southern Chantry.”

Dorian looked startled. “You possess a copy of _The Blood and Humours of Human and Elvhen Anatomy_? A controversial tome indeed. Uncomfortably blood magic associations even by Tevinter standards.”

“I know,” said Rose simply. “But the more knowledge I have about anatomy the better I can perform my job. In the Circle the Enchanters taught me how to cleanse an infected wound, which is fine and serves its purpose. But further study has given me the knowledge that an excess of yellow or black bile causes the infection in someone’s underlying anatomical structures. This allows me to understand all permutations of the medical situation, not merely heal it and hope for the best.”

Dorian looked queasy. “People are so messy when they are alive. I prefer the dead. They ooze marginally less.”

Rose hummed in understanding. “You’re a necromancer? You must surely have an excellent knowledge of anatomy. Are there any texts you could recommend?”

_“_ Most people consider _Et Quod Sanguis et Humores_ to be the masterpiece. Only other thing I’ve read on the subject is _Quod Quidem Injuriosum Medice, et Nutricem Nequiores_ and you have to glean the medical information from between passages about rippling muscles and large jars of oil.”

“I’m not sure if I should ask Varric to find me a copy or not?”

Dorian gave her a toothy grin. “Well it roughly translates as _The Naughty Physician and the Even Naughtier Nurse_ so it might cause some controversy.”

“I’ll ask Varric then, we can all use some cheering up.” Rose smiled at him.

Dorian laughed. “Anyway, I have a limited knowledge of anatomy. I call upon spirits to inhabit the bodies of the recently deceased. The only things I can do with the living is manipulate their minds and their perceptions.”

Rose tapped her fingers on the table, thinking. “Mind manipulation. Can you cast Sleep spells by any chance?”

“I can. Can you not?”

“No. The Senior Enchanters strongly discouraged Entropic magic in Ostwick Circle. If we needed to render a patient unconscious, they taught us to use a potion. I always thought I’d struggle with Entropy since it’s the opposite of the school of Creation, but I’ve been curious to try.”

“Are you a Spirit Healer, or a Creation specialist?”

“Andraste’s ass, I’m not a Spirit Healer.” Rose tapped her temple. “Only me in here.”

She felt the whisper of a touch from the Pride Demon intrude on her thoughts. She gave it a mental middle finger.

Rose smiled and conjured a flurry of snowflakes above her hand. “I have some skill in the Primal school as well, though my teachers never approved as we were taught to focus on one school of magic only.”

Dorian grinned back at her. “I too dabble in Winter. In Tevinter mages are expected to have a functional knowledge of all the schools.” He waved a lazy hand and snowflakes drifted languidly over their table.

Rose laughed and blew her handful of snow towards the other mage.

_Imagine,_ she thought, _here I am, sitting in a tavern, chatting to another mage. Openly talking about our magic. Openly showing our magic. What a crazy time we live in._

Dorian leaned forward again, errant snowflakes settling on his head. “If you like, I can attempt to teach you to cast Sleep spells.”

“I would appreciate that, thank you. Your skillset will be so different from any of the Circle trained mages, you’ll be an asset to the Inquisition.”

Dorian inclined his head towards her. “Thank you, my dear. From what I gather, the Herald will attempt to close the breach within a few days of the rebel mages arriving.”

Before Rose could reply, Sera sat down in one of the empty chairs, beside Dorian. She plopped a large knapsack on the table. There was a faint chirping noise emanating from it.

“Got you the crickets, yeah?” said the elven woman, reaching across the table to steal a drink from Rose’s tankard of ale. “And more beeswax and Prophets Laurel. Don’t ask me where the Prophets Laurel came from.”

Rose caught Flissa’s eye and signalled for more drinks. “Crickets?” she said, looking back at the knapsack. “And they are alive?”

“Oh they were for your dwarfy nurse. She said they had to be alive. I got her a whole swarm.” Sera grinned proudly, then nodded a thanks to Flissa who passed out fresh drinks to everyone.

Rose eyed the bag dubiously. She carefully moved it under her seat. “Thank you, Sera. Kalara will be, um, thrilled I’m sure.”

Sera saluted her with a large mug of ale and took a long drink. “Ahh, pish. It’s so warm again.”

Rose gestured at Sera’s drink. “Do you want me to make it cold for you?”

Sera shuddered. “No magic shite for me, Rosie-Posey. Me, over here. Magic, over there. Where I can’t see or hear it.”

Rose snorted at the nickname. “Fair enough.”

Dorian had been observing the exchange with an expression warring between bemusement and amusement. “You got your hands on Prophets Laurel? Any chance you might procure some Felandaris? I want to make extra potent cold resistance tonics to combat this infernal weather.”

Sera frowned at him. “Who are you then? Looking a bit fancy to be slumming it with the common folk.”

Dorian gave her a little bow from his seat. “Altus Dorian Pavus. Former noble, now a penniless disgrace and man about town. Haven seems to be swarming with nobles, like the lovely healer here, I am but one amongst many and here to assist our Herald in any way I can.”

“Rose is different, she helps the little people. Hah! Geddit?” Sera grinned at Rose. “Like how you help normal people and you help those kids. Little people. Nice one.”

“You are a young woman of remarkable verbosity.” Dorian’s voice was dry. “Any chance on the Felandaris?”

“You a friend of Della too? Yeah, I can try to get you some. Might take a while.”

Dorian waved his hand in dismissal. “I was planning on staying even after Della closes the breach. She wants to make further enquiries into the Venatori mess, and I am only too happy to help.”

There was a sudden hush in the tavern, which had been steadily filling up with patrons since they arrived, and Rose looked around to see the Blessed Herald of Andraste trudging wearily towards their table. The sun had set outside, Rose noticed, which meant the children would be here soon. Flissa had lit the lamps, and they gave the room a cheerful glow.

“You all talking about me?” Della flopped down onto a chair beside Rose and leaned forward so her forehead rested on the table. “I need a fucking drink. A real Qunari-sized drink, none of that ‘scaling it down for the dwarf’ shit.” Her voice was muffled.

Rose patted her on the shoulder and walked over to fetch the Herald a large whiskey from Flissa.

“Your Commander is a right fucking cock nozzle,” Della said, looking up when Rose sat back down and placed the drink in front of her. “I’ve never had such an interrogation. And I’m the one who fell out of the Fade with this glowing shit on my hand and had to deal with an angry Cassandra.”

“He’s not my Commander,” Rose said reflexively. “And I’m not sure I want to know what a cock nozzle is.”

Dorian hummed appreciatively. “Excellent choice of paramour, Rose. There’s something about those beautiful, heavily repressed Chantry boys. All those bulging muscles and emotional complexity. Delicious.”

Rose scowled at the other mage. “He’s not my anything! We’re just friends, of a sort.”

Sera raised her eyebrows at Rose. “You and the Jackboot, eh? Maybe you can dislodge the stick up his arse while you are down there.”

Rose groaned. “For the love of the Maker I’m not…”

“Just have hot, sweaty, repressed-Chantry-boy sex with him and be done with, Rose,” Della interrupted. “You never know what the future will hold.” The Herald’s voice was bleak, and she downed the rest of her whiskey.

“Dorian mentioned that magic sent you both to the future?” said Rose, keen to change the subject.

Della held the glass against her forehead and closed her eyes. “Into a clusterfuck of a future, complete with a demon army and an ‘Elder one’.”

Sera shuddered delicately. “I’m glad you left me here. Wibbily wobbly timey wimey… stuff. I’m well out of that shite, thank you very much.”

“It was terrible,” said the dwarven woman. “Whatever happens with the breach, I want to work out where the flying fuck that army came from. At least our new allied mages will be here soon.”

Rose tilted her head consideringly. “How did your advisors take news of an alliance with the rebel mages?”

Della groaned. “Cullen was being a Bronto’s arse about it. Leliana and Josie were more reasonable. Cassandra backed me up. At least we got to meet the King. Had dinner with him and everything.”

Dorian sighed happily. “Speaking of muscular Chantry boys. King Alistair is a delicious hunk of fine Ferelden cheese.”

Della rolled her eyes at Dorian. “Once he stopped shouting at us, yes, he was very nice. I can’t believe he’s single.”

“It must be rather lonely, being a King.” Dorian made a moue with his lips. “You’d never know if someone wanted you for you or for your station. On the plus side, you’d have access to all manner of debauchery and gold sufficient to ensure privacy, so I can’t be too sorry for him.”

“Rich tits,” muttered Sera.

There was a commotion by the door and Ivy and Mari skipped in to the tavern, holding hands and looking around curiously. Daven and Val were close behind them, Daven clutching a book under his arm and talking animatedly about something while Val listened closely.

Rose waved them over, and they filled all the spare seats at the table, with Mari sitting on Rose’s lap.

Flissa came over with platters holding fresh bread, cheese, cold meats, dried fruit and some preserves. The children happily helped themselves.

“Tullen?” Mari peered around the room, clutching a chunk of warm bread, the butter dripping off onto her already grubby tunic.

Rose gently righted the bread so the butter would soak into it instead of Mari. “He’s not here, little one. You might see him tomorrow morning when I go to practice with my quarterstaff.”

Mari’s lower lip quivered, but then she focused on staring intently at Dorian. More specifically, Dorian’s moustache. She chewed a mouthful of bread, watching the mage the whole time.

Ivy was also eyeing the Tevinter unblinkingly. “Are you a mage like Mama?” she asked solemnly.

Dorian gave the child a small courtly bow. ”I am, yes. Dorian of House Pavus, at your service.”

“I’m Ivy-Just-Ivy and I’m almost five. That’s Mari, she’s pretty much a baby except she can talk a bit and run away really fast. And that’s Daven, he gets to be my big brother now and he likes to read books and he’s teaching me swears in Elven.” She gestured to the other children, then said in a loud whisper across the table to Daven, “ _Masa_ ,” and giggled.

Daven coughed delicately and grinned at Rose who rolled her eyes in mock anger.

Ivy turned her piercing gaze back to Dorian. “Why don’t you have clothes over your shoulder?”

“I have appearances to maintain,” Dorian said grandly, “one can’t let their fashion slip even when living amid a barbarian outpost.”

Ivy contemplated this. “You’ll catch your death of cold,” she said sternly, sounding exactly like Rose.

Rose snorted into her ale.

“I’ll take your observation under advisement.” Dorian’s voice was grave.

Ivy gave him a short nod and glanced at Rose then back to the other mage. “Do you have a Mama?”

Dorian’s face looked heartbreakingly sad for a fleeting moment, but he forced a smile. “I do yes, but she’s still in Tevinter. That’s a very long way away.”

Rose stood up and leaned over the table, shifting another slice of meat to Ivy’s plate. “Eat your food, Ivy. Dorian doesn’t need you to interrogate him.”

Dorian gestured in dismissal. “It’s no bother, I enjoy the enquiries of an active mind.”

Rose laughed as she sat back down. “You say that now, but she’s only just started.”

Daven looked up from his book. “Once she questioned Val for 2 hours.”

Val lifted her head up from her murmured conversation with Sera and snorted a laugh. “In the end I had to take the children to visit the goats as a distraction.”

Ivy finished her mouthful, blithely ignoring the others. “Could you show me some magic? Mama never does. It used to be a secret she could do magic.”

“Hey,” said Rose indignantly, “I showed you magic yesterday when the campfire went out!”

Ivy rolled her eyes. “It wasn’t very good magic Mama. Your flame was only tiny.”

Dorian laughed and muttered something under his breath. There were gasps in the tavern as all the lamps extinguished at once and tiny pinpricks of light suddenly twinkled over the roof.

“And I’m out,” muttered Sera, jumping up from her chair and rapidly exiting the tavern, almost colliding with the dim shape of someone who was coming through the door.

There was a long moment of silence, in which Rose could clearly hear the crickets chirping from the knapsack under her seat. Then the three children all began to cheer.

“It’s so pretty,” said Ivy, sounding enchanted. “Magic is lovely.”

“Pwetty,” echoed Mari. She suddenly wriggled in Rose’s arms. “Pwetty Tullen, Ro’.”

“Yes, he is pretty, sweetling,” Rose said absently, still watching the magelights. Conversation resumed around the room.

She placed the vigorously squirming Mari down on the ground, then turned around in alarm as the toddler launched herself at someone behind them.

“PWETTY TULLEN,” Mari screamed happily, as the Commander picked her up and hoisted her onto his shoulder. The little girl grabbed two handfuls of his hair and laughed with unfettered glee. Rose felt her cheeks began to get warm and inwardly thanked Dorian for the dim light.

Della huffed an amused breath into her whiskey. “And so our Healer thinks too,” she whispered pointedly to Rose.

Rose kicked her ankle under the table.

“Altus Pavus, kindly reignite the lighting in here.” Cullen’s stern visage was somewhat tempered by the small girl sitting on his shoulder and joyously ruffling his hair into adorable golden curls.

“Oh, for the love of the Black Divine, Cullen, call me Dorian, please. Your formality will give me a hangover.” Dorian waggled his fingers at the twinkling lights, and they flickered out, replaced by the harsher illumination of the lamps.

“You are so much better than Mama, all she ever does is fix people and relight our fire,” said Ivy, sounding starstruck.

“Your mother is very clever for fixing people with her magic,” said Dorian, “I can’t do that at all.”

“If you say so.” Ivy’s voice was dubious.

“Would you join us, Commander?” Della gestured at the empty seat vacated by Sera.

Cullen hesitated and Ivy said “Cullen! Come and sit here with me and Dorian, you are our lovely friend. Messere Fluffy likes you which means you are nice and should sit with us.”

Cullen gave Ivy a small smile. “Well if Messere Fluffy thinks I should sit here, who am I to argue.” He moved around the table and pulled the chair out with his free hand. He shifted Mari onto his lap and Rose pushed the toddler’s plate across so she could resume eating.

“Help yourself to the food, Cullen, there is plenty,” said Rose, eyeing him closely. He looked a little peaky again.

Cullen had the expression of a man who was about to demur, but Rose narrowed her eyes at him, and he took a chunk of the warm bread, piling it with cheese and looking sheepish. Mari enthusiastically opened her mouth for a bite when he sat back, offering her slightly soggy bread to the Commander in exchange.

“You used your Bossy Parent Voice on Cullen,” said Della, leaning over to whisper in Rose’s ear, “and it worked. That’s hot.”

“You’re a terrible person,” Rose whispered back, stifling a laugh.

“I know,” the dwarf replied, grinning unrepentantly.

Rose gently elbowed the Herald and turned around to face Daven. “How was your day?” Rose said to him.

Daven put his book down and smiled. “It was good. Val took us for a walk on the lake after Aldwin finished our lessons. Mari and Ivy chased nugs.”

“Messere Fluffy joined us,” said Val, dunking a healthy chunk of bread in one of the preserves. “I saw him run out of Commander Cullen’s tent.”

Cullen looked up at the mention of his name, just as Mari shoved a handful of bread in his mouth. “My cloak is covered in fur again,” he said when he’d finished his mouthful, deflecting Mari’s attempts to keep feeding him, “and he left muddy paw prints across my desk.”

“See, I told you he likes you!” exclaimed Ivy. “He loves to sleep on special furry things.”

“That cloak is certainly special,” Dorian said with a slight smirk.

“Commander Cullen is like a lovely curly lion,” said Ivy, grinning at the Commander.

Mari reached up to grab a handful of the fur on Cullen’s cloak and brandished it at Ivy. “Nice lion,” she said distinctly.

Della laughed and swiped her hand towards like Ivy, fingers curled like claws. “RAHHHH I’m a scary lion!”

Cullen untangled the giggling Mari from his cloak and handed her a slice of cheese as a distraction.

“Lions eat little children!” said Daven loudly, looking up from his book again and baring his teeth menacingly.

Ivy and Mari both shrieked simultaneously. Mari hid her face and the cheese against Cullen and Ivy clutched Dorian’s arm. Della faked a dramatic swoon.

“Alright,” said Rose, standing up and scowling at the children. “Time to settle down and eat nicely. This means you too Herald.” She pointed at Della, who fluttered her eyelashes innocently at Rose.

The children laughed at Della’s antics, but fortunately settled down to eat. Cullen shot Rose a grateful look. The sight of him with Mari sitting on his lap, sharing chunks of bread with her made Rose’s chest ache with an emotion she was reluctant to enquire too closely about.

It was after they had finished their meal and Rose was considering taking the children back to the tent that Della leaned in close.

“Will you be with me when I attempt to close the breach?” Della said in a low voice. “Solas says the only danger is to me, not to the mages helping. If anything can be done, ah, for me afterwards I know you’d be the best person to do it.”

Rose stared at Della. The other woman’s face was calm but resolute.

_She thinks she’ll die,_ Rose thought. _She thinks she’s going to die closing the breach and she doesn’t hesitate to accept that._

“I don’t know about the politics with the rebel mages and an apostate,” the Herald continued, “but I do know I want my friend with me.”

“Makers ba…” Rose paused and looked at the children, who looked busy chatting to various adults. Rose knew from experience little ears were sharp indeed when cursing was involved. “Makers breath, of course I’ll be there with you.”

Della leaned back and took another healthy swig of her whiskey. “As soon as the mages get here, we can get it over and done with. All this waiting is fu…” Della looked at the children too, “ah, quite bothersome.”

Rose put her hand on Della’s shoulder, feeling the tension there. “I’ll be with you Della, whatever happens. We all will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Masa means buttocks! (Thanks to Project Elvhen).
> 
> Also I hope any Dr Who fans enjoyed the reference I slipped in there 😊


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting this chapter is my reward for surviving the tween girl sleepover my daughter had last night. So many girls. So much excitement! Luckily for my sanity they kept themselves busy binge watching Harry Potter movies, eating pizza and plotting world domination.

There was a commotion in the doorway of the infirmary as a group of soldiers came rushing in, one of their number lying on a stretcher and groaning. Rose recognised the injured man as she hurried over, he’d been to the infirmary a few times either helping friends or after unfortunate accidents on his part. Fred’s hand was a mess of wet burns, the skin bubbled a sickly red with an unwholesome sheen, the fingers swollen like fat sausages.

Kalara whistled low under her breath. “Paragons have mercy that’s a bad one.”

“It was another accident with my acid flask, Healer.” Fred managed a harsh whisper. His face was chalk white and sweat dripped off his forehead onto the canvas of the stretcher.

“We had this discussion last time, Fred,” Rose muttered, mostly to herself. “At the very least you need to wear protective gloves when mixing your blade poisons.” Fred writhed on the stretcher and Rose gestured to the soldiers where to place the young man as she went to get the necessary supplies.  

Rose mixed a very dilute soda ash and elfroot solution in a bowl.  She positioned Fred’s hand over an empty bucket and gently tipped a cupful of the liquid over the appendage. He screamed in pain and arched his back off the bed, nearly knocking his injured hand.

“Keep him still,” she said to Kalara and then looked pointedly other soldiers, who were hovering in the background looking ill at ease. “I’ve almost finished neutralising the acid, then I can heal him.”

Kalara leaned over Fred, letting her weight hold him down. “Could you try a Sleep spell? Make this less painful for him. Sleep aids healing.”

The other men and women assisted the diminutive nurse in restraining her whimpering patient, to Rose’s relief.

“I don’t think I’m ready to cast it on a person yet. Dorian says I’ve got a solid grasp of the spell but I’m reluctant to take that final step.” Rose spoke as she emptied the rest of the solution over the injured hand. “I’ve sent most of the nugs outside the walls to sleep just fine, and yesterday after my morning training I tried it on a druffalo and that worked, but humans are much more complex and subtle.” She grasped her magic and poured it into Fred without any preamble, soothing the wounds and promoting the growth of new skin.

The young man gasped, then relaxed and opened his eyes. Rose stood back as he held up his mostly healed hand, the skin still bright red but now whole.

“Don’t touch it yet,” she said. “We’ll need to bandage and immobilise your hand for a few days.”

“Thank you, Healer,” Fred murmured, rotating his wrist experimentally.

“You can thank me by wearing protective gloves next time,” Rose said flatly.

Fred looked suitably cowed. “Yes, Lady Rose.”

Rose scowled at the title but didn’t correct him. She left Kalara to bandage up his hand and went to check on the rest of her patients.

She had finished her rounds and was inspecting her bandage supplies when Della came bustling in, ignoring the awed silence that fell in the infirmary as she hurried over to the physician. “Rose! Will anyone die if you come with me right now?”

Rose updated her ledger with the number of long bandage rolls in the storage basket and looked up at the Herald, tapping her quill on the edge of the page as she raised her eyebrows at the dwarf. “Ahh, no? Though Fred’s arm might fall off if there is another incident with an acid flask and I’m not here.”

“Never mind that, he can live without an arm.” Della made a dismissive gesture. “I have something I want you to see.”

“I thought you were prepping with the advisors and Grand Enchanter Fiona for the trip to the breach this afternoon?” Rose squinted in consternation at the low stocks of wound padding and made a note.

“They set me free.” Della flopped dramatically into a chair. “There are only so many ways they can say ‘point your hand at the breach and hope you don’t die’ before it gets a little too grim.”

Rose shifted the basket back under the bench. “Alright, I’m all yours. What did you want to show me?”

Della sprang to her feet and favoured Rose with a bright smile. “Follow me!” She hustled the healer out of the infirmary and through Haven, past the stables and to the blacksmith.

It was hot around the forges, a nice contrast with the crisp mountain air. Men and women were working hard on the weapons and armour too advanced to requisition from Threnn.

“At least these people are wearing protective gloves,” Rose muttered under her breath.

“Herald, Healer Rose, good morning to you both,” said Harritt by way of greeting to the women as they walked up to him. It was almost effusive by his standards, as Rose knew the blacksmith to be spare with his words.

“Good morning Harritt,” said Rose, “how is your elbow doing?”

Harritt flexed his arm. “It’s right fine, Healer. That Stitches fellow is a dab hand with a poultice.”

“Harritt.” Della gave him a nod of greeting. “I got your message about my order being ready.”

“Ahh yes.” Harritt fetched a bundle from one of the benches. “Head next door to try it on, Healer, and let me know what the fit is like.” He nodded to the building attached to the forge.  

Della thanked him and tugged Rose over to the nearest room. “I ordered you some battlemage armour,” she said, grinning broadly. “Harritt’s pretty good with sizes, but he can do any adjustments while you are here.”

“Battlemage armour?” said Rose, surprised. “Are you expecting demons when you close the breach?”

Della opened the door and motioned for Rose to go through. “Solas doesn’t think so, but he’s been wrong before. Anyway, and this is coming from a place of love, but your clothing is tatty and won’t protect shit if things go wrong up there.”

Rose looked down at herself and grimaced. “I want to argue with you, but I have been thinking of ordering some decent mage robes to wear when I’m working. I need to replace my grotty physicians coat.”

Della made a noise between a snort and a giggle. “Rose you stole a mage robe from Threnn’s supplies, cut the bottom off it and called it a coat. Why didn’t you wear the robes you nicked? As robes, being a mage and all.”

Rose grinned unrepentantly. “I prefer to call it a ‘surreptitious requisition’. She wouldn’t let me take it, I think she was still angry about the Orlesian letters. I wanted to change the robe just enough to avoid her suspicions. And at least it covers my clothes.”

Della rolled her eyes. “Okay, strip. Let’s get you out of that old clothing.”

“Perhaps you should buy me dinner first?” said Rose, arching an eyebrow at her friend.

Della chuckled and threw the bundle at Rose. “Hilarious. I thought you Circle mages were used to public nudity. Startled the shit out of me in Redcliffe, I went into one of the rebel mage dorms after we dined with the King and let me tell you there were arses everywhere. I figured I’d have to participate in a magical orgy, which, hey, works for me. I’m always keen to further the cause of the Inquisition. Sadly, Fiona told me people were just getting ready for bed.”

Rose examined the contents of the bundle. There were leather breeches, a soft linen shirt, a stiff reinforced calf-length leather coat and sturdy knee-high boots. “We were under the constant watch of the templars,” she said absently, admiring the fine craftsmanship of the armour. “One loses a sense of privacy after years of that.” Rose stripped efficiently down to her smallclothes with just a moment of shame that Della would again see the ugly brand on her hip, then donned the outfit. She looked over at Della and smiled. “I can’t say I witnessed any orgies though, sorry to disappoint.”

It had been a long time since she’d dressed like a mage. She had fled the circle wearing her Enchanter robes then left them in a midden after stealing a dress. The only garments she had kept were her underclothes and the slip with the coins Rowan had given her sewn carefully into the hem. Her new armour was much nicer than cloth robes, there were large pockets in the coat for her medical supplies, the boots were sturdy and comfortable, and everything was fitted to her figure with remarkable accuracy. Rose was both concerned and impressed that Harritt had guessed her measurements so well.

The Herald’s jaw dropped as she regarded the mage. “By the stone, Rose, you look sexy as fuck. Your tits are truly majestic. I wonder if Cullen is nearby, they must have finished the meeting by now. You could ‘accidently’ walk past him.” Della walked over to the window and peered out towards the training grounds. “Oh, would you look at that, Blackwall is out there. The things I do for my friends, Rose. I could be out there charming the pants off that handsome chunk of manflesh.”

Rose huffed a laugh. “Focus, Herald. I’m sure Warden Blackwall will permit you to have your wicked way with him soon enough.”

Della gave a gusty sigh and turned away from the window.

“Anyway,” Rose continued, “I doubt Cullen notices what I wear.”

“I do need to focus, it’s almost time to fix the sky.” Della straightened her shoulders, then laughed. “I have no doubt Cullen will notice, Rose. Even though we’re off saving the world, he’ll notice.”

 

***

 

Their footsteps echoed on the ruined temple floor. Fat stalagmites of red lyrium jutted ominously up from the ground with a sickly crimson glow and a profound aura of wrongness. Rose had a flicker of worry for Cullen, who was finalising the positioning of the mages with Grand Enchanter Fiona.

 _Being around any kind of lyrium is not good for his recovery_ , she thought. Her hand drifted of its own volition towards the vial of lyrium in her pocket. _Hopefully I don’t need this. Ghastly stuff._

The nearer Della walked to the breach, the more her hand sparked and flared with power. “Feels like it’s getting chewed on by darkspawn,” the Herald said softly. “Not sure all the ass cream in Thedas will help me now.”

Rose didn’t know what to say. Della had the grim humour of someone who expected to die and was trying very much not to dwell on that fact. She put her own hand on Della’s shoulder, in silent support.

“Are you ready Herald?” Cassandra’s voice was steady.

“The Hero of Ferelden is a dwarf,” said Della pensively, looking up at the breach. “She saved us all from the Fifth Blight.”

“Warden-Commander Brosca is a great leader and visionary. Leliana always speaks most fondly of her.” Cassandra followed Della’s gaze into the turbulent sky.

“Dwarven women saving the world. Leave it to us to get shit done.” Della let out a long breath of air. “At least I managed this much. Better this fate than a knife in the back after a smuggling deal gone wrong.”

Rose swallowed the lump in her throat. “You’ll make it through this, Della. You’ll have many years yet to show Thedas quite how much shit you can get done.”

Della snorted in disbelief. “Well, we’ll see, won’t we.” She squared her shoulders and walked purposely closer to the breach. “Let’s get this over with,” she said over her shoulder to Cassandra.

Rose exchanged a pensive glance with Cassandra and then followed Della. She stopped a few paces behind her and twisted to look backwards at the crowd assembled around the ruins. She had a stab of pride at the assembled mages, resplendent in their new Inquisition-issue mage robes. Each held a staff tailored to their specific talents. All free, all here to help fix the ruined sky.

Her eyes drifted to the side where Cullen stood stiffly, looking intently towards herself and Della, his hand on the pommel of his sword. Knight-Captain Rylen leaned towards him and said something in his ear. Cullen smiled a little and nodded in response to whatever his second in command had said, but his gaze didn’t shift.

“Mages,” said the Seeker, looking around at the assembled group, her voice clear as a bell in the sudden silence. Grand Enchanter Fiona stood at the front of them and gave Cassandra a solemn nod.

Solas paced the area like a restless wolf. “Focus past the Herald!” he shouted to the mages. “Let her will draw from you!”

Rose turned back to where her friend, the Herald of Andraste, stood surrounded by green Fade energy, a small and resolute figure. Rose could sense the waves of power crackling around the dwarf, arching and sparking off her marked hand.

Della abruptly lifted her hand towards the sky. With a tangible throb the power increased in intensity.

Rose felt a swell of power behind her as the mages focused the energy of the Fade. She took a step towards Della, who was now entirely wreathed in green magic. It was like trying to walk neck deep through the Waking Sea on a stormy day, the magic was so dense in the air. The music of her own magic reverberated under her skin, and she carefully drew upon it, anxious not to disrupt what the free mages behind her were doing.

A jet of magic shot from Della’s hand into the breach and Rose could smell the distinctive smell of burning flesh amid the piercing ozone scent of magic.

“Shit, balls, Bronto fucker,” Della hissed as the skin on her hand cracked and blood dripped down her arm. “Paragons and fucking Andraste protect me.”

Touching Della’s shoulder she focused on her friend, feeling the wrongness tearing the flesh of the Herald’s hand apart. Rose directed Della’s body to withstand the assault, to stall the damage. The power of the mark was too great to allow healing, but with luck Rose could prevent further damage and fix it when the huge rift was closed.

Della was breathing harshly and swearing continuously in a low murmur. Rose could see sweat running down her face and her red hair clung damply to the back of her neck. Rose wrestled her magic under control, forcing it to stay and augment the Herald, not drift to join the massive wave of power heading up into the sky.

The damage was trying to spread down Della’s arm from the pressure of the tide of magic. Cracks wanted to form in her bones and veins, skin wanted to burn to a crisp and peel away. Rose gritted her own teeth and drew more magic from the Fade, right on the cusp of pain.

Both women were panting, and Della’s arm shook violently.

“You can do it,” Rose rasped. “Don’t let it win.”

Della had stopped swearing in favour of a grim silence. Without warning, the breach closed with a seismic shudder. A massive wave of energy thrummed through the air and hurled Rose backwards to lie on the ruined ground. Her head smashed into the dusty ruined stone floor and she yelped with the pain. She blinked to clear her vision, then slowly sat up and looked around. The shock wave had knocked the other Inquisition members over too, except Della, who knelt on the ground cradling her hand as blood pooled on the ground beneath it.

Rose crawled forward, unwilling to trust her ability to stand after such a fall. Della didn’t react as Rose touched her shoulder again, sending healing through her arm and hand. The mark felt calm and tranquil, letting her healing wash past it to mend the Herald’s damaged flesh. The wrongness was there, but Rose perceived it like an infected wound that had recently been cleaned and dressed, not raw and full of pus as she usually did.

“Well now,” Della whispered when her hand stopped bleeding. “I’m actually fucking alive.”

“You are,” Rose agreed, “and you closed the breach.”

“I did,” Della breathed.

Both women looked up. The sky was still turbulent, the clouds swirling like a silent hurricane, but the massive rupture had indeed been sealed.

Cassandra had righted herself, and she came rushing over to check on Della, with Cullen and Solas close behind her.

“You did it,” said Cassandra.

“I’m fine,” said Della, letting the Seeker pull her to her feet. “Rose stopped my fucking arm getting minced.”

Cullen offered Rose a hand, and she took it, staggering a little as he pulled her upright. He held on to her hand a moment longer than he needed to before letting go. She touched the lump on the back of her head and sent a tendril of healing through it to relieve the swelling.

“Is anyone badly injured?” she asked.

He shook his head, looking at her attentively. “Not that I observed. Just bumps and bruises I imagine. Are you well?”

“Just a bump on the head, I’m fine. And you?” Rose gave his appearance a professional once over. He looked tired but okay.

“I am well.” He glanced away from her and up at the sky. “The Herald did it. She is indeed blessed by Andraste.”

Rose coughed delicately into her fist. “Della might argue with you there, but she is certainly brave.”

She looked over to Della and the happy, chattering mages who now surrounded her.

“You’re a hero, Herald,” said a young man, looking at the dwarf with worship in his eyes as he loomed over her, gangly and awkward in his new robes.

“I’m not a fucking hero. I did what needed to be done.” Della stared up into the sky again and hummed meditatively. “Let’s go back to Haven and get shit-faced,” she shouted to the surrounding crowd, clapping the young mage on the back as the other mages cheered.

 

***

 

Rose took a long drink of her ale and slammed the now empty tankard down on the ground. “Time for me to call it a night.”

Varric gave her a quizzical look over the rim of his own tankard. “Already, Healer? The night has just begun, we haven’t even had our dance yet.”

Rose groaned dramatically as she stood up. “Don’t tease a girl, Varric, I know your heart is with a certain crossbow.”

Sera drunkenly saluted the healer with her ale mug. “She’s got you there, Varric.”

“She does indeed, Buttercup,” the dwarven man said, glancing towards his tent where his crossbow was no doubt situated.

“Anyway, I need to go and look after my children.” Rose ruffled Sera’s hair in farewell, laughing as the elf flipped up her middle finger. “Let Val come and celebrate.”

The crowd around the campfire all toasted her, and she made her way through the village, smiling at the happiness and revelry that surrounded her. Many people hailed her as she walked past, people she’d treated as patients, or just met in the tavern or through training. She was accepted. It was an odd feeling, that people knew who she was, what she was, but still were willing to talk to her and treat her as a valued member of the Inquisition.

As she approached the edge of the village, warning bells began to toll and there were distant shouts of alarm. Fear rolled over Rose in sickening waves.

 _The children,_ was her first thought. _Oh shit, the children_.

She saw Cullen run towards the gate as she approached it herself. “Forces approaching! To arms!” he shouted.

The gates of Haven swung closed just as Rose reached them and her dread increased tenfold. She drew her staff from its holder on her back.

“I must get through. I need to get to the refugee camp.” She tried to sound calm, but terror tightened her throat and made her voice crack.

The cacophonies of different musical celebrations that had been drifting through the air each stuttered to a stop, and Rose heard the townspeople scream in fear.

“There is an army coming down the mountain, Healer,” said the guard apologetically. “We can’t defend the refugee camp, we need to stay behind the walls.”

“I have to get out, my children are there,” Rose said through gritted teeth. She clutched her staff so firmly it hurt, the pain anchoring her to reality.

Out of the corner of her eye she could see Cullen waving his arms around, ordering his troops into defensive positions in their mountain home.

The guard hesitated. “I’m sorry, my Lady…”

Rose stood back and directed the melody of her magic to drift over her skin as she thickened the air around her body into a barrier. Her hands became icy cold as she prepared to unleash the full force of Winter and the end of her staff crackled with freezing energy. “Let me the fuck out,” she said with frosty calm, “or I will blast these fucking gates into oblivion.”

“Allow her through,” ordered the Commander, striding over.

The guard saluted him and then swung the gates open enough for her to fit. Rose glanced over her shoulder at Cullen as she slipped through the gap. His expression was stoic, but he gave her a small nod. She nodded back in acknowledgement, pain and worry twisting in her chest, and then turned away.

 _Please let my children be safe, Maker_ , she called to the absent god as she ran towards the refugee camp. _Please don’t let them die. Take me instead. I will give my life to save theirs._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliffhanger. Arrgh!
> 
> Also both my first characters for DAO and DAI were female dwarf rogues so I have a very soft spot for them :D


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The entire fall of Haven was going to be one long chapter, but it turned into an unwieldy beast, so I split it into two parts for my own sanity!

The bells tolled in the village behind her and scores of lights from the invading army made their way down the mountain towards their haven. Rose tried to keep her gaze away from them and focus on her immediate vicinity, skirting the training grounds, along the wall, past the stables. She glanced up at the frantic activity in the stables, where Master Dennet shouted at his stablehands to “Hurry the fuck up” as they led the Inquisition mounts in a trail to a safer place within the walls. One boy was leading Jonty, Ser Betsy and Apples to safety, and unexpected tears pricked Rose’s eyes.

_Stupid woman_ , she berated herself, _emotional about the goats when my children are in danger_.

The blacksmith was a hive of activity too; the workers gathering up any serviceable armour and weaponry and fleeing in the opposite direction to Rose.  

On she ran through the scattered trees and over the partly frozen ground. Her desperate flight faltered as she spotted a group of templars attacking the trebuchet furthest from the village, fighting the soldiers stationed there.

_What the shit? Templars are the invading army? Why?_

She gave them a wide berth, casting hasty barriers over the Inquisition soldiers but otherwise not stopping to help. Luckily the templars didn’t seem to notice her.

Dispersed groups of hostile combatants appeared on the edges of her vision and she threw careless ice glyphs at their feet, intending to hinder their movement. She was too out of breath to say the incantations that would stabilise the glyphs, instead she yanked more raw Fade energy into herself and directed the air to freeze around their bodies with the all subtlety of an avalanche. Some of Cullen’s soldiers who had been on duty outside the walls were slowing the templars advance. She kept throwing up barriers on any Inquisition soldiers she saw, consuming more and more magic to do so whilst she ran as fast as she was able. The power she drew upon thinned the veil between her world and the Fade, and she could almost hear Solas’s voice berating her for undertaking reckless actions that would agitate the denizens of that realm.

Her breath came harshly, great puffs of cloud in the crisp dry air. Sounds of screaming drifted from outside Haven’s walls, melding with the metallic clatter of battle.

She finally spotted her goal near the refugee camp, still heartbreakingly far from her. A clustered knot of perhaps a dozen children, including hers. Adults surrounded them, even one in Chantry robes of all things, and they were trying to flee towards the village. As she looked, the relief in seeing them alive almost overwhelming, they came under attack from one side. Her relief dissolved into a visceral panic. The armed refugees desperately defended themselves, including Val whom Rose picked out by the elf’s vibrant curly red hair. Once she saw them, she barely moved her gaze, only reacting by instinct to the increasing clusters of fighting now hindering her desperate flight.

_I’m coming_ , she thought, _just hold on a little longer_.

She fought with all her strength, whirling her staff and drawing yet more sickening amounts of power from the Fade. Snow flurried around her as she ran, and her body numbed. She was the eye of a storm, the freezing heart of a blizzard. The attackers who tried to stop her were sinister anonymous figures in their all-encompassing helms, stinking of lyrium. Lyrium, she distantly observed, turned diseased and putrid. They didn’t fight like the templars in the Hinterlands, there was a stiffness to them, a clumsy brutality she escaped more easily than in her previous experiences.

Just as she was in the clear to reach the refugees, from behind her the edge of a Spell Purge coated the area with an unwelcome dose of reality. It deepened into a full Silence spell and severed her connection to the Fade. She grunted in frustration and whirled around with quarterstaff in hand, the previously unseen templar uncomfortably close. Sickly red crystals clustered at the base of their helm, like someone had stuffed a monster into templar armour instead of a person. She jabbed the butt of her staff into the crystals, wincing as they crunched and ground under her blow. Great fleshy chunks sloughed off, and she couldn’t distinguish between the lyrium and blood. The fractured templar fell backwards, and she took off running again, not turning to see if they regained their feet.

_Still too far away._

Each step Rose took towards the children seemed to take a year, as more combatants got in her way. Mindlessly Rose ducked sword blades, whirling and weaving through armoured bodies, her sturdy quarterstaff replacing her severed magic. Frustration and fear gave way to an icy calm, her whole being focused on reaching her children and protecting them.

Over in the huddle, Ivy clutched Mari to her, hunching over the younger child with her own slight body. Both girls were bundled up with extra clothing and blankets used as cloaks over them and each girl had her ragdoll under her arm. She saw the fat form of Messere Fluffy, hurling himself through the legs of the attackers, tripping them and darting around their feet. With a silent snarl he launched himself at a corrupted templar wearing the regalia of a Knight-Captain, putting them off balance. They aimed a kick at the cat, who was too quick and darted back for another attack.

Finally, Rose reached the edge of the group and threw herself into the fight with her quarterstaff, her mind still silent with the lack of Fadesong. The templar she’d picked to battle was much bigger than her, with even more red lyrium crystals visible than she’d previously seen, one arm totally obscured by them like a living weapon.

To her side, Grand Chancellor Roderick stood in front of the knot of terrified children and Daven moved into view just behind the cleric. He was dressed similarly to the girls, looking far less skinny than usual with all the clothing he wore and his mother’s blanket over his shoulders.

“We are peaceful non-combatants,” Rose heard the Grand Chancellor say loudly. “By attacking us you directly violate your vows to the Chantry.”

She thumped her staff into the breastplate of the person she fought. They reeled backwards and a pallid man in shabby clothes and a large hat appeared from… somewhere… and slit the templar’s throat in the vicious streak of a dagger.

The adult refugees were falling in defence of the children. They had little hope against trained warriors. Valerie valiantly held her own, ducking and weaving through the soldiers with daggers flashing, her bright hair vivid in the snow.

The Knight-Captain stepped over the body of the man they’d just killed and without hesitation ran their sword through Grand Chancellor Roderick’s stomach. The children all screamed in horror.

Rose could feel a trickle of her magic return, but it wasn’t enough.

_You can save them with blood_ , whispered her Pride demon, finally making its unwelcome presence felt. _You can save them with your blood or see them slaughtered before your eyes while you watch like the pitiful creature you are_.

The Knight-Captain withdrew their sword from the stomach of the Grand Chancellor. It was covered in blood and had an eerie red glow. They held the grisly sword up in the air above the frightened children and laughed, the incongruous sound cutting through the noises of battle.

Rose heard her heart beating in her ears, sensed the power of her blood in her veins. Such a simple solution, providing protection from the magic disrupting spells of these templars. Magic that the templars couldn’t stop, magic powered by her own body and not the Fade, a connection to her power they would never sever while she yet lived.

_Just a drop and I’ll show you. We’ve been friends for years you and I. I am here for you._ The voice was heartbreakingly seductive.

Rose slowed her movements, glancing down at the broken bodies lying in the snow. Her children would be next to join the dead. They too would become meat left to rot in the dirty snow.

“Just a drop,” she whispered. “Would it really be so easy?”

_What kind of person wouldn’t save their children_? murmured the demon.

The noise of battle faded. She could save them. Who would blame her for making that choice?

The Pride demon didn’t respond, as silent as her magic.

Her head jerked up at the sound of Daven’s voice from the little knot of children. “YOU WILL NOT HURT ANYONE ELSE,” he screamed at the laughing templar. Daven raised his hand and the Knight-Captain burst into flame, laughter abruptly dissolving into a frantic scream.

Rose gasped, and promptly gagged as the oily smell of searing flesh slithered down her throat. The burning templar fell apart in crystalline lumps in front of the children.

The scene shocked Rose into action again, spurring her to tug hard on the thread of her magic that was reappearing. It came rushing back in a torrent and she exalted in her strength. Concentrating inwards she shoved the Pride demon away, slamming into place the mental barriers that Solas had taught her. Cold sweat dripped down her face and her stomach roiled at the greasy stink that now coated everything. She focused her whole being on the attackers who surrounded them and sent a roaring wave of frozen air through the templars, slowing their movements to a crawl. Her cold, clean ice was pure, it stopped the heat and smell and corruption.

The remaining adults dispatched the rest of the templars, shattering them into clumps of frozen flesh. Ivy and Mari ran to her, both girls clutching her leg and sobbing quietly, and she stroked each of their heads but watched Daven. He still stood beside Roderick, sweating and trembling badly, his gaze fixed upon the charred remains on the ground in front of him.

The shock of what she almost did rooted her to the spot momentarily, absently comforting the girls and staring at Daven.

_I was shamefully close to becoming a blood mage. To making a pact with a demon. Fuck. Father was right, I’m nothing but a waste of a person._

She took a deep breath.

_Daven needs me. The girls need me._

She stepped forward with difficulty, both girls still adhered to her leg, then seized Daven’s chin and peered into his green eyes. Memories of templars doing the same thing curdled her stomach, but she forced herself to check. His luminous elven eyes looked clear and unclouded by a demon.

“It’s in my head, _Mamae_ Rose,” he whispered, “it told me I just had to let it in and it would save you and the girls, but I told it to go away. I know about demons.”

_I know about demons too._

Rose swallowed heavily, then steeled herself into the appearance of composure. “You did the right thing, but you must hold on for a little longer. Does your magic feel like it will stay inside you if you need it to?”

Daven roughly brushed away the tears that slid down his cheeks. “It’s there, but it’s like a cough. I could do it, but I can stop it too.”

“Alright, but tell me if that changes.”

Rose kept gripping thin shoulder as he nodded, and she looked around the terrified refugees.

“I’ll help you get to Haven,” she said, her voice loud enough to carry.

She gently pried the girls off her leg and knelt beside Roderick, who had been trying to move. She placed her hand on his chest and sent a wave of healing through him. His stomach wouldn’t heal properly, acids leaked into his body but there was red lyrium residue from the sword that resisted her efforts.

“The blade was corrupted,” Rose murmured, “but I don’t have time to investigate fully. Can you walk?”

Rose blinked and the pale blond man from earlier had suddenly appeared beside the Chancellor. “I will help him.”

Despite herself, Rose squeaked and rocked backwards. “Makers fucking balls. Who are you?”

The young man regarded her. “You remember me. I am Cole. I’ve come to help you. You are all very brave.”

He wasn’t dressed like an Inquisition soldier and he had an air of oddness, but Rose wasn’t about to be picky.

“Okay. Okay. Ah, alright, we need to get inside the walls of Haven.” Rose motioned the group into action. “Come on, quickly.”

Mari sobbed quietly as they walked, clinging to Ivy’s hand, but Rose couldn’t pick her up to soothe her. The toddler looked utterly bewildered. Every noise of distress cut a jagged path through her chest. Rose desperately wanted to gather all her children into her arms, but she must not. Her role here wasn’t a provider of comfort, the mother who nurtured them. She had to fight for them as a mage, as a living weapon because comfort was for safety, not for battle.

_I forced this life upon them_ , Rose thought. _This is my fault_.

Val moved over to walk with her, interrupting her thoughts before they spiralled downwards into self-loathing. The flamed haired elf clutched her bloodied daggers and scanned the area for more attackers.

“You fight well,” Rose said to Val, not taking her eyes off the surroundings.

Val sighed. “You need to in Denerim Alienage. Especially before King Alistair’s reforms, before the Blight, when I was just a little girl. That’s why I enjoy teaching children, to give them the chance at a childhood I never had.”

Rose nodded, then glanced over at her girls again. Ivy had stiffened her back and still clung to both Mari’s hand and her doll. Her dark brown eyes were huge, but she was clearly trying to be brave. She gave Rose a watery smile and Rose smiled at her daughter as much as she was able. Messere Fluffy trotted beside them, fur puffed up and angry, his tail stiff in the air and twitching at the end. Rose had never been more grateful for that cat.

“The cat has been with us the whole time,” said Val, following Rose’s gaze. “He howled for attention at the edge of the camp and that’s when we saw the army coming down the other side of the valley, even before the bells rang in the village. Daven got the girls to grab some warm clothes while I alerted the camp that we had to flee.”

“You all did well. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help.”

“We would have died if you hadn’t come when you did, Rose. Let’s worry about getting to Haven.”

Rose hummed an agreement.

Daven stayed beside her. She wanted to send him to be with the children, but it was too late for that. He would never go entirely back to being a child now, he was a weapon like her and would need training and instruction on how to survive in a world that liked neither elves nor mages.  

They moved swiftly towards the village, stopping only to gather up any injured people on the way. Rose sent rough jolts of healing through those that needed it, enough to get them walking but no more. She’d already used vast amounts of Fade energy, more than she thought herself capable of, but she required reserves of magic in case things got worse.

“Magic is a gift, and I used that gift to kill.” Daven’s voice sounded almost inaudible.

“No, you used that gift to save,” Rose said sharply. “But Daven, now is not the time. I need you to live first, and we’ll talk about the ethics of it later.”

“Yes Rose,” he replied, his voice dull.

Rose gripped his shoulder again. “I’m so sorry sweetling, I’m so sorry that your magic has shown itself like this, but we must get through this situation first.”

His face firmed into a mask of resolve. “I won’t let you down.”

“Daven, listen,” Rose said quietly, still scanning the area for attackers. “The first lesson I learned as an apprentice was to steer my mind away from the Fade by focusing on a verse. My favourite was from the Canticle of Trials. ‘Maker, though the darkness comes upon me, I shall embrace the Light. I shall weather the storm. I shall endure.’”

Daven wrinkled his nose. “Seeker Cassandra recited that one to us.” He repeated it several times.

“Keep your whole attention on the verse. It does help.” Rose paused and considered her next words carefully. “I’m sorry I don’t know how the Dalish teach their mages.”

Her son gave a small and rueful laugh. “It’s okay Mama Rose, we’ll worry about my training when this is over. I’d never want to be like my parent’s people anyway, the elders sent _Mamae_ and _Babae_ away because their clan had too many mages.”

“ _Ar lath 'ma_ Daven.”

“ _Ar lath 'ma tas_ _Mamae_ Rose.”

They were within sight of the gates when the concentration of attacking templars grew larger and they got pulled close to the edge of battle again.

A group of soldiers ran over to assist, and the refugees hurried towards the gate, adults still surrounding the children. The boy Cole, walking with his arm around Grand Chancellor Roderick, ushered them all away from the danger.

“Interrupt their incantations,” she shouted to the soldiers. “Don’t let them cast a Silence.”

She harried the attackers with freezing spells again. Arrows whizzed past their heads and downed several templars. Out of the corner of her eye Rose saw Sera perched on the stable roof, cackling wildly as she wielded her bow with uncanny skill.

She jumped as a wall of flames fountained behind the remaining templars, driving them forwards to die upon the blades of Inquisition soldiers.

Her gaze was pulled over to Daven, still holding his hand up to control the flames, and she ran to him. “Shit, Daven, stop. We’re doing okay, we’re nearly safe.”

The flames guttered down. Daven glanced at the group of children and looked mulish. “I want to help.”

“You don’t have enough control, you’ll end up hurting our people.”

Sera appeared beside them. “If little elfy boy pops a demon, he’s getting an arrow through the eye, yeah?”

Rose clenched her fists and took a calming breath. “He’s got it under control, it won’t happen again.”

“Magical shite.” Sera sighed and shook her head. “Less talk, more templars to kill. Good fighting, Rosie-Posey.”

“You too, Sera.”

Rose took Daven’s hand and ran to join the refugees.

“Take them through,” she said to Val and Daven, stopping at the gates and letting the group continue without her. “Run to the Chantry, I’ll join you as soon as I can.”

“Come with us to the Chantry, Mama,” cried Ivy, turning around and looking panicked. “We need you.”

“I’m sorry sweetling,” said Rose, her voice breaking, “I must help defend the village now you are safe.”

Ivy ran over to Rose and cling to her leg. “Mama, don’t leave us.”

Mari followed Ivy with tears running down her pale cheeks. “Ro’, hup.” She held her arms up.

Swallowing her grief Rose whispered, “I’m sorry,” as Val picked Ivy up and slung her over her shoulder and Daven seized Mari’s hand. Rose whirled around and ran away from her children and towards the fighting.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I seem to have a thing about writing cats defending their loved ones in battle. It happened with Edith in Lonely King and now Messere Fluffy here! I reckon it’s because of that viral video from a couple of years back with the cat hurling itself at a dog that was attacking the little boy from the cat’s family, watching that made me so emotional. Cats are the best :D


	14. Chapter 14

The soldiers had flung Haven’s gates wide open, and the air crackled and hummed with magic as the rebel mages fought to defend their new mountain home. Rose watched Grand Enchanter Fiona shouting instructions to a band of mages as she knelt to heal some injured Inquisition soldiers.

The group of refugees hurried through and the lump in Rose’s throat eased a little. She heard the click thunk of a trebuchet loosing and a boulder sailed over the valley and towards the distant mountains, above the sea of flaming torches marching down to their village. 

_They are trying to send an avalanche onto the invaders_ , she thought. _Clever_.

Cullen was fighting in tandem with a group of Inquisition soldiers against his former colleagues. Fiona and her cluster of mages had gone in a different direction and the group were sorely pressed, even with Cullen battling his foe like a man possessed.

Rose winced at the terminology of her thoughts. Possession was not something a mage should think about, especially with the temptation of blood magic both offered and considered so recently. She felt a tickle of a presence in her mind behind her mental barriers, but it stopped at that.

She gritted her teeth and ran towards Cullen’s group, snow swirling about her as she pulled more magic from the Fade. She had to stay back, dodging the bursts of reality that carved through the eddies of the Fade as templars cast their powers at and around each other.

The fighting was most brutal here, sword and shield clashing horribly. Thickening the air in a cursory barrier over herself, she darted around the injured lying on the ground. It was a continuation of the work she’d done on the way between the refugee camp and the village, dumping a minimum of healing as fast as she could into each person who was alive. She was able to heal some people as per usual, but some were like Grand Chancellor Roderick, poisoned with red lyrium, preventing her creation energy from taking hold. As she worked she kept her eyes on Cullen and his group, sending barriers his way, their way, as often as possible.

_There aren’t any other mages near enough to do that. I’m not giving Cullen any special treatment._

Della was at the nearest trebuchet, Rose could see her darting through the group of attacking templars. She was too far away for Rose to assist, but things looked under control. She’d thought Val graceful with her flashing daggers, but Della was brutal, a small and holy bringer of death, daggers glinting brightly amongst the cold snow. Cassandra was there, valiantly defending their Herald, as was Varric who was standing near the wall and sending bolts from Bianca through the hostile templars armour. Dorian danced through the attackers too, cracking with Fade energy and unleashing the shameless grace of his magic.

Rose looked up as another click thunk rang through the air and Della’s trebuchet flung a huge boulder. This one triggered the intended avalanche as it hit. Rose paused and watched in awe as the incoming torches of a large amount of the invaders winked out under the mass of snow.

Scattered cheering sounded from the Inquisition forces. Rose huffed in relief as she ran over to next injured person.

The celebrations halted abruptly as a screeching came from above and a dragon swooped low over the valley, unleashing a fireball onto the trebuchet where Della still was. Rose’s mind fuzzed blank as she stared dumbly at the creature screaming its rage through the un-breached sky. The dragon’s hide was a black that seemed to suck the colour from everything around it, but with patches that glowed the same diseased crimson as the templars.

“What the fuck?” she whispered.

_What the actual fuck_. _This is much, much worse than before._

Reality seemed sluggish to return, though it must have been less than a few seconds. She remembered her task, and she forced her attention back to the ground to look for any more downed soldiers. Mercifully there were none that she could see.

“Rose,” said Cullen, motioning her towards the gates. “We have to go.”

She followed along, mind whirling with the abrupt change of pace in the battle.

“How do we fight the dragon?” she said to him, clinging to the hope of a plan from the master strategist.

“We don’t,” he replied shortly, not looking at her.

“Oh no,” she breathed.

Cullen glanced at her then, an expression of infinite regret flickering for a brief moment over his face. Then his professional soldier mask snapped into place and he turned away from her to focus on getting everyone through the gate. Her chest felt heavy as she watched him, an answering pang of loss for what might have grown between them in their mountain haven, if given enough time and acknowledgement.

The dragon shrieked again, diving low over the gates as they all instinctively ducked, a stark reminder that they were all out of time. Della was last in and Cullen swung the gates shut behind her.

“Fucking dragons,” the Herald yelled defiantly at the sky, “fucking swooping.”

“We need everyone back to the Chantry,” Cullen shouted to the horrified people. “It’s the only building that might hold against… that beast. At this point, just make them work for it.” His voice dropped sharply in volume at the end, but Rose heard him. He turned and strode in the direction of the Chantry, Rose closely behind him.

“Shit, I need to go to the Infirmary,” Rose muttered. “We’ll need more supplies.”

Cullen grabbed her arm to stop her before she could go haring off towards the medical facilities. “Your nurse, the dwarven woman, was treating the injured in the Chantry. I assigned soldiers to fetch any supplies she needed.”

She looked down at his cold, gauntleted hand clutching her arm and was momentarily flustered by the similarities to being touched by Martin.

_Now is not the time to remember that clusterfuck_ , she thought _. Get it together._

“I’m not a child, Commander,” Rose said flatly, “you needn’t hold my hand to make sure I don’t wander off.”

He let go of her arm but gave her a sidelong scowl. “There is nothing more you can do except get to the Chantry.”

Rose gave a snort of discontent. “I know, I know. Shit, I just want to do something. Anything to help.”

They hurried along in silence for a few moments. “Did you locate your children?” Cullen said finally.

“I did,” Rose replied, “they should be in the Chantry. For all the good that will do them.”

The unholy shriek of the dragon punctuated her remark, and they both winced. As they neared the Chantry, they could make out Threnn fighting a group of hostile templars who’d made it through the walls.

Cullen drew his sword and readied his shield. “Stay behind me,” he said to Rose.

“Well no, I wasn’t planning on jumping between the man with the shield and a bunch of unfriendly templars,” Rose murmured, “that seems counterproductive.”

Cullen gave a snort that might have been a rueful laugh and then without preamble charged the group that surrounded their quartermaster.

She cast a barrier over him as he ran, then concentrated on freezing the air around the attackers, making their movements sluggish. Cullen and Threnn fought side by side and Rose extended the barrier around the other woman.

“Kill the mage bitch,” snarled one of the attackers, his voice sounding oddly gritty.

“Fuck off,” muttered Rose, increasing the density of the ice in the air.

A dagger bloomed suddenly from the eye of that templar. Rose glanced over to see Della standing beside her. “You tell ‘em, Rose,” said the Herald, who threw a flask of something on the ground and disappeared in a puff of smoke.

Rose looked wildly around for her friend, who reappeared behind another templar and stabbed them in the neck.

“She’s a delight, isn’t she?” said Dorian, taking Della’s place beside Rose. Before the physician was able to reply, he muttered some words in Tevene and the remaining templars unexpectedly froze on the spot, looking blankly at nothing, with expressions of profound horror on their faces. Della, Cullen and Threnn swiftly dispatched them with a minimum of fuss.

Grand Chancellor Roderick was in the Chantry's doorway as they entered. “Move, keep going,” he said, ushering them through. “The Chantry is your shelter.”

Rose caught her breath as the other stragglers ran inside. She jumped, startled, as the strange young man from the refugee group appeared, this time catching Chancellor Roderick as he collapsed.

“Branka’s quim,” Della swore, looking around the bloodied and bedraggled residents of Haven clustering in all corners of the Chantry.

Mages with any healing skill moved through the dishevelled survivors. Vivienne and Grand Enchanter Fiona worked at conspicuously opposite ends of the area, both helping to heal the more serious injuries. Kalara was marshalling the nurses, who were moving from patient to patient with quiet efficiency.

“He tried to stop a templar,” the boy, Cole, said to the Herald. “The blade went deep. He’s going to die.”

Despite his obvious pain, Roderick made a face. “What a charming boy.”

Rose dropped to her knees beside the Grand Chancellor, who had slumped on a chair. The red lyrium still jangled inside the wound and she hissed in frustration.

“Heal the others,” he rasped at her. “There are lives you can save. Do not fuss over an old man like me.”

Rose paused, searching his face. Her gave her a slight smile, and a reassuring pat on the shoulder. She nodded, then stood up and examined Della, who had a large cut on her cheek. Rose sent a wave of healing through the dwarf, who looked startled but then thanked her.

Cullen pulled himself away from the scouts giving him reports and strode over to Della “Herald. Our position is not good. That dragon stole back any time you might have earned us.”

Rose clenched her teeth and turned her focus away from the Herald to where her companions were standing near the Chantry door.

Cassandra had an obvious sprain in her shield arm but didn’t want magical healing. “Just wrap it up,” the Seeker said, “and save your mana. You’ve pushed yourself too hard already.”

“I’m alright,” said Rose, bandaging Cassandra’s arm firmly, “I’ve got lyrium here if I need it.”

She moved on to Varric, who unbuttoned his shirt and exposed his injured shoulder.

“Face it, Healer,” the dwarf said, giving her a winning smile, “you just wanted to see more of the chest hair.”

Cassandra made a disgusted noise, but Rose huffed a laugh. “It’s true, you have a fine pelt. Bianca is a very lucky crossbow.”

Varric’s wound was nasty, an arrow had pierced deep into his flesh and Rose had to concentrate hard on it. The arrowhead was mercifully uncorrupted by the poison of red lyrium and she was able to heal his shoulder to the point of functionality.

Rose looked up from applying the dressing as Cullen raised his voice from his conversation with Della and Cole.

“Herald there are no tactics to make this survivable,” the Commander said. “The only thing that slowed them was the avalanche. We could turn the remaining trebuchets. Cause one last slide.”

Della was clearly horrified. “We’re overrun. To hit the enemy, we’d bury Haven.”

“We’re dying,” said Cullen bluntly, “but we can decide how. Many don’t get that choice.” His voice became soft.

Rose had frozen with her hand on Varric’s shoulder, looking at the corner of the room where her children sat huddled together. Daven was telling the girls a story to distract them, judging by the way he was sitting facing them and gesticulating wildly. Val held Mari on her lap and was slowly rocking her. Messere Fluffy crouched beside Ivy, tail twitching in agitation.

“Shit, Healer.” Varric followed her gaze.

A tear she couldn’t stop ran down her face.

“I’ve killed them,” said Rose quietly. “They are here because of me.”

Varric put his hand over hers and squeezed gently. “Hey. It’s not over yet. People like us, we’re too stubborn to die that easily. I’m not dying under the snow when there is a dragon to take down.”

Roderick’s voice interrupted their conversation. “There is a path,” rasped the cleric. “You wouldn’t know it unless you’d made the summer pilgrimage. As I have. The people can escape.” Della stood beside him and he rose with difficulty up to address her. “She must have shown me. Andraste must have shown me so I could… tell you.”

Della frowned. “What are you on about Roderick?”

“It was whim that I walked the path. I did not mean to start, it was overgrown. Now, with so many in the Conclave dead, to be the only one who remembers, I don’t know, Herald. If this simple memory can save us, this could be more than mere accident. You could be more.” Roderick’s cheeks were flushed with fever, but his eyes were clear as they fixed upon Della.

Varric looked at Rose and raised his eyebrows. “What did I tell you?” he whispered to her. “Not over yet.”

Della turned towards where the mountainside sloped steeply up behind the walls of the Chantry, her gaze intent as if she could see through solid stone. “What about it, Cullen?” she said over her shoulder. “Will it work?”

Cullen looked thoughtful. “Possibly. If he shows us the path. But what of your escape?”

Rose stared at Della as she moved to look back over the throngs crowding the Chantry, a determined expression on her face.

Cullen flinched. “Perhaps you will surprise it, find a way.” He strode purposefully away, through the swirling mass of soldiers and refugees. “Inquisition! Follow Chancellor Roderick through the Chantry. Move!”

Roderick leaned heavily on Cole as he touched Della’s shoulder. “Herald. If you are meant for this, if the Inquisition is meant for this, I pray for you.”

Della nodded silently at him.

Some soldiers ran past them, out through the doors of the Chantry. “They’ll load the trebuchets,” said Cullen, focusing on the Herald again. “Keep the Elder One's attention until we’re above the tree line.”

Della walked over to stand with Rose and her closest companions. They had all gathered here to listen to her planning with Cullen, even Vivienne and Solas had taken a break from healing duties to come over. The Herald drew a dagger and flicked it up into the air, neatly catching it by the blade as it came back down.

Cullen ran his hand through his hair. “If we are to have a chance,” he said to Della, “if you are to have a chance, let that thing hear you.” He headed briskly towards where the people were heading down to the dungeons, already shouting more instructions. Leliana and Josephine joined him, the Nightingale armed with an impressive looking bow and Josephine wielding her customary clipboard like a weapon.

Rose glanced at the children again. Val was looking over at her for instruction, and Rose made a motion for her to follow the crowd. She watched them leave, with Val talking animatedly to the girls to distract them. Tears threatened as Daven turned and held up a hand in farewell to her. She dragged her attention back to the dwarven woman.

Della barked a laugh. “Well, turns out I was right about today being my death. There I was all ready to get fried by the breach. Instead it’ll be a fucking dragon or the Elder One, whatever that thing we saw is. What a fine fucking joke.”

“Della, no,” Rose whispered.

“You will not die, Herald,” Cassandra said fiercely. “We shall protect you.”

Warden Blackwall stepped forward and gave a surprisingly courtly bow. “Let me go with you my Lady. My sword is yours.”

Della muttered something that sounded distinctly like “If only,” but then said in a louder voice, “Cassandra, the Inquisition needs you. I’ll take Blackwall.”

The Seeker started to protest, but the Herald quietly held up a hand and Cassandra fell silent.

Rose swallowed heavily. “Take me too Della, I can keep you all alive.”

“No fucking way,” said the dwarven woman without hesitation. “Stay with your kids Rose. And there are injured people who need you more than I do. Try to fix up that wanker Roderick, since he’s apparently saved everyone.”

“Della, you could use a healer.” Rose glanced at Solas and Vivienne who were both regarding her impassively. “Ahh, a specialist healer. I’m the best you’ve got.”

“If you try to come with us, I’m getting Cullen to pick you up and throw you over his shoulder.” The Herald smirked. “Although you might enjoy that.” She drew herself to her full height and looked around the group. “I’ll take the Iron Bull and Dorian as well as Blackwall. The rest of you need to help get everyone to safety.”

“Fuck yeah, Boss,” said Bull with incongruous cheerfulness. “Let’s go annoy the shit out of a dragon.”

Dorian sighed theatrically, but then hefted his staff and grinned. “I travelled all the way from Tevinter only to end up fighting a dragon with a Qunari, a dwarf and a gorilla. Charming.”

Della rolled her eyes. “Alright, now that Dorian has graced us with his opinion, it’s time to go.” She raised her voice. “COME ON BOYS. LET’S GO AND MAKE SOME NOISE.”

Without a further farewell she dashed through the Chantry doors followed closely by her chosen team, Bull letting out an ear-splittingly loud whoop. Rose cast the thickest barrier she could manage over them as they left, prompting Dorian to blow her an extravagant kiss as they disappeared into the soon-to-be lost village of Haven.

Despite herself she huffed a laugh. Sera tugged on her arm and she set off to follow the other survivors, running to catch up with her family.

 

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely reader! I said at the start of this fic that I wouldn’t post individual warnings on chapters, and the contents of this one is broadly covered in the fic tags. But! If you want to have a more specific warning, I’ve put a spoilery, more specific one in the end of chapter notes. Please check down there if you need to.

The survivors were largely silent, except for the heavy breathing of a rapid trek up a mountain and the occasional low cry from the livestock sharing their journey. Dragon roars rent the air, a reminder of why they had to maintain such quiet. Rose carried Mari like a baby on her back, in a makeshift sling fashioned from a cloak. Varric strode along beside her, carrying Ivy on his shoulders. Val and Daven walked together. Nobody made eye contact with anyone else, all too focused on the long climb up, keeping their footing and avoiding the steaming piles of bronto dung and stray vegetation left on the path. Messere Fluffy seemed the most cheerful of the group, trotting at their heels and sniffing the air, his tail stiff and quivering with excitement.

A woman’s scream pierced through the quiet. Instinctively they all looked up to see if the dragon would swoop death upon them, but the sky above them remained clear. A few minutes later the young nurse Lin came scurrying down the track to them.

“Healer, we need you,” Lin’s whisper was urgent. “Aalidis is having birthing pains.”

Rose exchanged a concerned glance with Varric. She looked up the slope to see how much further it was to the treeline. They were too far away to make camp yet, as the plan was to send an avalanche down upon Haven when they had signalled that they were above the slip zone. Scattered trees surrounded their path, the bare snow of the mountaintop still up ahead.

She unwound the sling containing Mari and passed the now sleeping toddler to Val, then followed Lin, threading through the trudging people and animals.

Aalidis was sitting on the back of one of the sleds for injured soldiers the brontos were dragging up the mountainside. Kalara had been walking beside her, but she moved over to Rose.

“Her pains are coming too often. She can’t have the baby here.”

Aalidis’s husband Alec was walking with her too. “She’ll draw that creature’s attention away from the village and doom us all,” he said apprehensively, glancing at his wife then frowning at Rose.

Aalidis screamed into a cloth someone had given her as one of her birthing pains hit. It muffled some noise but not enough. They all peered up into the sky again, but it remained clear.

Rose looked worriedly at the labouring woman. “I could try the Sleep spell. It would give us the time we need to get her to safety before she delivers the babe.”

Alec’s expression cleared a little. “So it’ll shut her up and stop the baby coming?”

Rose scowled at his wording, but she kept her response polite. “It should slow things down long enough for us to get clear of the avalanche zone. Once we’re out of danger, I can wake her up and deliver the baby.”

“Do it,” said Alec firmly. “I don’t like magic but she’s making too much of a racket.”

Rose directed them to pull to the side of the trail to let people past as she used her magic. She stroked the damp hair back from the younger woman’s brow. “Aalidis. I want to put you magically to sleep until we are further up the mountain and safe. Is that alright?”

Sweat was running down Aalidis’s face, even in the freezing mountain air. “Yes,” she said shortly, before doubling over and screaming again in pain, her face scrunched up and despairing.

“It’ll be okay,” Rose whispered to her. “When you wake up, you’ll be able to birth your babe and hold him in your arms.” She sent a slender tendril of entropic energy into Aalidis, encouraging her body to go into a resting state. Her magic felt distant, after overextending herself in the battle around Haven, but she could manage this much.

_Just like I practiced. A delicate touch_.

Rose stayed close by for a few more minutes as they pulled back onto the path and continued walking, but the contractions seemed to have stopped. She left the unconscious woman being watched by her husband and Kalara, then wove her way through the trail of people to check on the wounded. There hadn’t been any further deaths on the walk up the mountain, but Chancellor Roderick in particular was gravely injured, and other victims of red lyrium tainted injuries were struggling. She kept magical healing to a minimum, acknowledging her own exhaustion.

Rose checked on her family. Ivy had started to droop and Varric was carrying her in his strong arms now, her head resting on his shoulder. Mari was still asleep too, attached to Val’s back in the sling.

“I’m guarding them, _Mamae_ Rose,” said Daven with great solemnity. “You take care of the sick people.”

Rose kissed his forehead and whispered a thanks, then dropped back to the end of the stream of survivors as they finally cleared through the trees into bare snow. Cullen and Leliana had stopped beside the track, staring down at Haven.

“We need to stop as soon as possible,” she said to them. “There are patients, including a woman in labour, who won’t make it much further.”

“My scouts say there is more shelter on the other side of the mountain and a pass just ahead of us,” said Leliana, “perhaps an hour’s journey.”

Rose nodded. “Alright, that will have to do.”

Rose looked towards Haven. She saw a dragon shaped creature on the ground there, but no sign of movement or of Dorian’s usually flashy magic.

She watched Cullen and Leliana as the advisors exchanged a glance.

“It’s time,” he said.

Leliana showed no expression as she drew her bow. Cullen held an arrow out to Rose, the tip of it wrapped tightly with cloth.

“Can you light this?” he said softly.

Rose reached for her reluctant magic again, it was thin and watery in her grasp but she filled herself with enough for the task. She touched the arrowhead with the tips of her fingers and used her meagre skill in the fire element to direct it to burst into flame. Swiftly Leliana nocked the arrow and loosed it without hesitation straight up into the air.

There was a lengthy pause, the only noise being from the increasingly distant murmurs of the people of Haven as they trudged further up the mountainside.

_Did it work? Did she see?_

There was a tightness to Cullen’s lips as he focused his gaze on the village at the foot of the mountain. Leliana’s face was blank and smooth.

_Maker, are Della and the others dead? Has the plan failed?_

The scream of a dragon came again as a projectile from the last of Haven’s trebuchets soared through the air and impacted on the snow, perhaps four hundred paces away. Snow, ice and rocks detached with a roar and thundered towards Haven.

“Oh Della,” Rose whispered as the deluge covered their former home.

Leliana was still stony faced, and she turned away from them and set up off the slope at a jog.

Cullen looked pinched and pale. “If anyone can survive that, it’s the Herald and her team.” He didn’t sound like he believed his own words, but Rose hummed an agreement.

She glanced up at the retreating backs. “I should check on the injured again,” Rose said.

“There isn’t much you can do until we stop walking,” replied Cullen. “Take a moment away from your magic, you won’t help anyone if you burn out.”

“Is that a command, Commander?” Rose gave him a small smile, despite her fears for Della and the others.

He raised his eyebrows in response. “A helpful suggestion.”

They turned their backs on the wreckage of Haven and the broken mountain, walking quietly together in the slush left by their companions. They followed the others through the pass to the other side of the mountain, neither of them looking back.

Rose took a deep breath of the frigid air. “There upon the mountain, a voice answered my call,” she said, quoting barely remembered lines from her childhood. “’Heart that is broken, beats still unceasing, an ocean of sorrow does nobody drown.’”

Cullen glanced at her. “’You have forgotten, spear-maid of Alamar, within My creation, none are alone.’" He spoke in a low voice, finishing her verse. “I did not think you were devout, Rose.”

Rose made a face. “I’m not. I’m really not. But right now, I think I need some comfort. My fa…” She took a breath and steeled herself at the thought of him, “my father is a very religious man. My brother and I had to memorise a lot of verses from the Chant, we used to practice together. I enjoyed that part, even knowing what would happen if we got them wrong.”

Rose always had trouble reconciling the happy memories amongst the abuse of her childhood. Sometimes it felt like she was minimising the conduct of her father by recalling the pleasant times she had. The reality was that life was never so simple, happiness might be interwoven with horror, sadness and pain with moments of light.

Cullen said nothing for a few minutes, and Rose was embarrassed that she’d talked about her family. “I’m sorry about your brother,” he replied eventually, seemingly choosing his words with care. “You must miss him.”

“I do,” she replied, embarrassment fading. “I wish he’d been able to meet the children.”

His hand shot out to steady her as she almost tripped over some loose stones. Her legs protested the downward path after so many hours slogging uphill.

“You are safe from Bann Trevelyan with m… with us. With the Inquisition.” Cullen awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand.

“Thank you, Cullen,” she replied, watching him out of the corner of her eye.

One of Leliana’s scouts skidded up the track towards them. “Commander,” the young woman said, “we’ve found a place to stop for the night.”

“Alright, thank you, I shall assist in making camp,” said Cullen, then turned to Rose. “By your leave, Healer.”

Rose huffed a gentle laugh at his formality. “Certainly Commander,” she replied. As he moved to go, she caught his arm. “Cullen, if you see Varric, could you let he and the children know I’ll join them as soon as I can, but I need to care for the wounded first.”

Cullen nodded in acknowledgement, then strode off.

Kalara was efficiently organising the injured survivors into the few tents they had when Rose joined her.

“Everyone is still stable,” said the dwarven woman. She gave Rose a long look. “You’ve used too much magic. You should stick to mundane healing. And get some rest. Save your strength for emergencies.”

Rose’s lips twitched in a small smile. “How can you tell, Kalara?”

Kalara paused as she directed people to the appropriate tents. She then looked Rose up and down. “This old dwarf does not have contact with the Fade. But. Rose. I’ve lived for a long time. I can see it in your eyes.”

Rose nodded slowly in acknowledgement. “I’ll help you here, then get some rest. How is Aalidis?”

Kalara grimaced. “Stirring but mostly asleep. She’s a little pale. I’ve checked for blood. There was none. But, I have concerns. Her husband has been watching her. He reports no change.”

“I’ll reverse the spell. It’s not an ideal place to give birth but I can’t see any choice.” Rose grasped her magic in preparation, making sure the Fade remained close enough to her that she’d be able to draw sufficient power, regardless of how drained she was.

Aalidis was still lying on a litter, her husband standing next to her with his arms crossed. As soon as he saw Rose and Kalara he muttered something about “Women’s business,” and disappeared toward where the remains of the army were clustering around bonfires.

Kalara frowned at his retreating form whilst Rose knelt beside the young woman. She shut her eyes and laid a hand on Aalidis’s shoulder, coating her with magic to reverse all traces of the entropy spell keeping her unconscious.

Aalidis came to with a gasp, looking at the women with wide eyes. She looked pale, but not unduly so. She leaned forward and moaned in pain as a contraction swept over her.

“Let’s get you up,” said Kalara cheerfully. “You need to walk. Until the babe is ready to be born.”

They hauled the slight woman upright, supporting her weight. She took two steps then her knees buckled. They held her still, giving her a chance to recover.

“Healer,” Kalara said suddenly, “we need to set her down.”

They moved Aalidis back to lie down. Rose saw that blood now soaked the snow at her feet and her eyes had fluttered closed again.  

“Let me sleep,” Aalidis murmured. “I’m so sleepy.” Her head slumped backwards as unconsciousness took her again.

Rose shoved a wave of creation energy into Aalidis. A massive amount of blood had collected in her womb, previously blocked from escaping by the baby. Shifting position had triggered the haemorrhage to become noticeable.

“Shit,” Rose muttered under her breath. She glanced over at Kalara. “She’s bleeding internally.”

Kalara looked grave, as Rose dug in her pockets for the emergency vial of lyrium she’d been carrying around. The substance sparkled bright blue in the cold light of their camp, and it made Rose’s skin crawl. The closer lyrium was, the more like a hum it sounded, just out of range of hearing.

“You were right, I’m too drained,” Rose said, unstoppering the vial. She drank it all, desperately supressing her gag reflex as the thick, tepid slime slid down her throat. It tasted like the smell of magic, like the air after a thunderstorm.

“An entire bottle? Healer Rose, that’s far too much,” Kalara’s eyes crinkled in concern.

Power surged through her body, too much to contain. She had no reply for Kalara, she couldn’t do anything as mundane as speaking. She was drunk on the Fade, no longer tired and ready to take on the world as a being of pure magic. She focused on her professional calm, wearing it like an armour, forcing her magic into its mould.

Aalidis’s heart was faltering. Rose sensed every part, the muscles and chambers, all struggling to keep pumping blood around her body.

She felt the second heartbeat of the baby, but it was fading.

_So quickly?_ she thought, distantly. _Normally blood loss takes longer to do this level of harm._

“Fetch the husband,” Rose heard Kalara say to someone. “Run, hurry.”

Time became meaningless as she poured magic into Aalidis, trying to keep her body working. The cold had disappeared, she had become as hot as the sun, blistering with magic. All she perceived was the swish swish of blood through the woman’s veins. It was hours, years, minutes, seconds she existed to keep Aalidis and the baby alive.

Demons called to Rose, offers of help, vengeance and skill. The Fade was all around, a warm blanket in the snow, closer than it should be. She ignored it all, her whole being focused on the body of her patient.

There wasn’t enough blood getting to Aalidis’s brain, and the bleeding inside her just wouldn’t stop. Rose couldn’t pinpoint where it was coming from, simply that it originated near the baby. She told the pregnant woman’s body to heal itself, to repair the damage, but it was sluggish and wouldn’t respond. It was like the body still slept, unaware of the catastrophe inside.

She hissed in frustration and encased both mother and child in an avalanche of creation magic, trying with all her might to save them. Rose gathered more and more power from the Fade, until it hurt like an open, festering wound.

Aalidis’s breathing stuttered and stopped. The spark of life that indicated her brain was dulling even more rapidly. Rose couldn’t afford to even check on the baby now, she drew yet more power into her body and sent it straight into her patient.

Rose sensed the Fade’s sweet call in the decreasing fluttering of Aalidis’s heart, then the stillness of her organs, the utter silence of her body.

Someone wrenched her backwards, and she landed in Kalara’s lap.

“It’s over,” rasped the dwarf, “she’s gone.”

“The baby,” Rose whispered, “maybe we can save the baby.”

Kalara loosened her grip on Rose. “Check,” she said, “but I’m not letting you lose yourself in them.”

The baby had died before its mother, gone to the Fade and quiet.

Rose sat back down on the frozen ground and stared at Aalidis, magic still sparking around them both. She tasted the Fade same as lyrium, ozone on her tongue. She slowly lifted her hand and stared at it. It was streaked with Aalidis’s blood, and green creation magic drifted around her fingertips like steam.

“I’m sorry,” she heard Kalara say to Alec. “I’m so sorry, but they are both gone.”

His cry of grief rang out, and the noise and bustle of the camp fell into a hush. Rose couldn’t take her eyes away from the body, swollen with the child who would never see daylight. Every breath she took was dripping with the Fade, she sat apart from herself, her body a vessel for her magic and her mind watching the scene in front of her.

Alec dropped down beside his wife and tenderly touched her chalk-white face.

He stared over at Rose. “You killed them,” he said with icy calm. “You disgusting freak, you killed my wife and my child.”

Rose gazed at him and felt like she stood on one side of a great chasm and he was on the other.

“Alec,” Kalara said gently, “it wasn’t anyone’s fault. Sometimes women bleed too much. Then don’t stop. I’ve seen it before. Too many times.”

“But if she wasn’t sleeping, we would have known something was wrong.” His voice cracked. “This is her fault.” He pointed at Rose.

_It was my fault_.

_It is my fault_.

_My fault_.

Rose focused on the words. She didn’t know where else to look, so she watched the still form of Aalidis.

Her magic still raged inside her, fuelled by too much lyrium and pain. She perceived lyrium deep within the stone under her feet. The creation magic had fled, she realised, replaced by the primal pull of ice. Snow began to fall thickly, just over their little group. Flakes settled in Aalidis’s hair like a shroud.

She stood up and stumbled numbly towards the trees, struggling to breathe while the power poured through her. Shouts followed her, but she didn’t understand the words. The noises of the camp fell away, sounds she didn’t remember. They were meaningless anyway. All she remembered was the beating of Aalidis’s heart as it faltered within her.

When the power threatened to overwhelm her, she stopped. Snow whirled around her in a tight blizzard.

Laughter sounded in her mind, behind the barrier Solas had helped her make there. The Pride demon.

_I need to rid myself of this magic_. The thought intruded on the fractured chaos in her head. _It will hurt me otherwise._

She threw all her magic into the nearest tree, great gouts of ice and snow and grief. It froze solid, then shattered with a loud crack. Splinters of frozen wood showered the area, littering her exposed hands and face with punctures.

Her own heartbeat sounded in her ears. She breathed properly again; her power containable.

Her magic was calm now, quietly sitting in the back of her mind. Mechanically, she pulled the largest shards of wood out of her face and hands, but blood still ran freely, dripping down her face like tears.

There was a commotion of several pairs of footsteps behind her, but she didn’t shift her gaze away from the shattered tree.

“Oh Maker have mercy, no.” Shock clouded Cullen’s voice.

_Mage covered in blood is a death sentence around templars_ , she thought.

Reality abruptly covered the area as someone cast a spell purge. A woman’s voice muttered the incantation for it. Rose looked at her hands. Her own blood now mixed with Aalidis’s. Her hands looked too normal, made of skin and flesh and bone now instead of being infused with magic. The air was thick from the purge, the Fade uncomfortably far away. The pain of her injuries had become real with the purge too, punctures dotting any visible skin.

Rose’s breath hitched as Cullen seized her jaw in his gauntleted hand and wrenched her to face him. He had drawn his sword. Cassandra and Rylen stood behind him both with blades bare. Cullen stared hard into her eyes, and she realised what he was checking her for.

“I’m not a fucking abomination.” Her voice came out husky, like she hadn’t used it for a lifetime. She cleared her throat. “They are already dead, I’ve already failed. No point in any demons now.”

Cullen lowered his voice to a furious whisper. “Even without taking lyrium I could feel your magic go out of control, and now you are covered in blood.”

She stared back at him, breathing heavily. “Normal people don’t just turn to demons.” Anger at him was an easier emotion than the hopeless emptiness. “It takes years of torture and rape and fear to turn mages into choosing to become that. You of all people should know. You were part of that.”

He let go of her jaw and stepped backwards.  “I think mages are more prone to choosing demonic bargains and blood magic than you are willing to admit, but now is not the time for that argument.”

Abruptly, the fight left Rose. She turned back to stare at the ruined tree again. “No, I suppose it is not.” Her words were hollow, and she rubbed her jaw where Cullen’s gauntlets had dug painfully into her skin. “I took too much lyrium, there was too much magic. Nowhere for it to go when my patient died so quickly. Patients. Her and her baby.”

Cassandra spoke, her sword pointing towards the ground but still unsheathed. “You should have asked a templar to purge you.”

Anger flared again. “Forgive me if my first thought isn’t to go running to templars for help, Seeker,” Rose spoke sharply. Cullen was still watching her cautiously, and she scowled at him.

His face relaxed a little, and he glanced over his shoulder at Rylen. “Have you still got a spare healing potion?”

Rylen sheathed his sword, dug around in his belt pouch then tossed a small vial to Cullen. “Heads up, Commander,” said the Starkhaven man.

Cassandra sheathed her sword too, then she and Rylen headed back towards the camp, leaving Rose and Cullen alone.

Cullen passed the vial to Rose. She drank a third of it, frowning at the oily texture of preserved elfroot. “That’s enough to prevent infection,” Rose said, passing Cullen back the bottle. “Save the rest for the more seriously injured.”

He nodded, then reached inside his coat and pulled out a white, monogrammed handkerchief and handed it to her.

“Maker’s balls, how many of these do you have?” Rose wiped the blood away from her eyes and mouth with it.

“Less now than I did this morning,” replied Cullen, glancing back toward where the ruins of Haven were obscured behind ridge of the mountain.

Rose grimaced and stuffed the handkerchief into a pocket. “Mari always carries around the first handkerchief you gave me.” She looked down at the ground and sighed. “I’m fine now, we should get back.” She examined the backs of her hands, which had scabbed over with the help of the potion.

Cullen didn’t move. “I regret the loss of the mother and child, but you did everything within your ability to help them.”

The Pride demon laughed again.

Rose looked back in the camp's direction and sighed. “There is always something else I could have done. It feels like my fault.”

Cullen shook his head. “You can’t take responsibility for every single life. We are an army, people will die. If you blame yourself for things you can’t control, you’ll never function. Believe me, I know.”

Memories of the hope in Aalidis’s eyes as she discussed her unborn child with Rose were almost overwhelming. Rose clenched her fists, scrambling to get back her professional calm and detachment. “I’ve lost patients before. This… this really hurts though.” Her voice cracked, and she dug her fingernails into her palm. “We should return to camp, we both have duties. I want to see my children now.”

“Rose, we should discuss this.” Cullen gestured to the shredded ruins of the tree.

“Look, I’m sorry I blew up a tree. Too much lyrium fucks you up. You would know.” Rose regretted the look of pain that crossed Cullen’s face, but she wanted to have this moment over with. Force herself to return to normality. “We need to launch a search party for Della, Blackwall, Bull and Dorian, not sit around talking.”

Cullen sighed and then nodded. They walked silently together back to the camp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **TRIGGER WARNING: death of mother and baby in childbirth.**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> That was my first onscreen death of a named character who wasn't a Bad Guy, and now I feel like a jerk for killing both Aalidis and the baby. I'd planned it from the start of the fic, but I still feel sad!


	16. Chapter 16

Shadows had fallen, and all hope had fled, but then Della came back to them at dawn. Her return took place two days after Haven’s destruction, unconscious and freezing and cradled in Warden Blackwall’s arms. She woke up a day after that, when Rose was rebandaging her frostbitten feet. The Herald swore viciously for several minutes in dwarven and then reverted to the King’s tongue in order to threaten someone called ‘Corypheus’ with castration. Using a rusty dagger.

Della had shouted at the bickering advisors, then everyone sung a hymn led by Mother Giselle. Rose had been with Grand Chancellor Roderick then, holding his hand as he died. The words of the song didn’t touch her as she wallowed in her own failure as a physician and a person. She was as cold as night and on a dark path indeed in that moment.

The Herald had stood in front of the crowd as they sang to her and knelt to show their respect. “You’re all fucking bonkers,” she’d said incredulously, then stormed off. Apparently that had been to talk to someone with detailed local knowledge, because she came back full of news about a mountain fortress that could be their new base.

Rose avoided Cullen on the trek there, with the memory of him with his bared blade ready to kill her still too fresh. She walked with the children as much as she as able, covering her grief and shame over recent events by telling them stories and singing silly songs about nugs. Every night they burned the dead she’d been unable to save, those tainted by red lyrium infected wounds.

Skyhold was everything Della had claimed it would be and more. A mountain fortress set high and proud, enough room for the people who ran the Inquisition inside the castle and a wide valley below for the army and the surviving refugees.

Rose sat with more dying soldiers in Skyhold’s courtyard as the advisors proclaimed Della Inquisitor. The strange young man Cole crouched nearby, ready to provide the gift of mercy to those whose suffering Rose could not ease. Rose had watched Cullen rouse the crowd instead of Della raising the ceremonial sword. He had looked tired, but jubilant.

Della’s first acts as Inquisitor were to organise the provision of a tavern and a spacious infirmary, right next to each other. “Both places are for healing,” Della had explained, before she showed Rose the large family sized quarters the physician had been billeted, near the infirmary.  Rose suspected they’d given her lodging in Skyhold proper for her own safety, as Aalidis’s grief-stricken husband Alec had been overheard making threats. She couldn’t bring herself to object to special treatment, the prospect of a real bed was an appealing one.

And so life went on, much as it had in Haven, except now they had the name of a foe, Corypheus, and a more targeted strategy of winning hearts and minds across Thedas. None of that mattered to Rose, really, as she threw herself into her work, hardly venturing beyond the infirmary and the family quarters. Sometimes she glimpsed Cullen sparring in the courtyard, or talking to Della, when she looked through the infirmary door. Seeing him should not have made her heart hurt, but it did.

 

***

 

The loaf of bread was still warm from the Skyhold kitchens, and Rose cut it into thick slices for the children’s breakfast. There was a pitcher of fresh goats milk on the table in their quarters, courtesy of Ser Betsy, who was happily installed in the stables with Jonty and Apples.

“Are you excited for the first day of lessons?” Rose asked Ivy as she passed her a slice of the bread.

Ivy pulled the crock of butter towards herself and gave a dramatic sigh. “But I don’t want to go to lessons, Mama.”

Rose helped herself to some bread, enjoying the fragrant steam that arose from it. “It’s important that you learn to read and write and do sums, sweetling.”

“Why can’t I stay with Val?” Ivy painstakingly buttered her bread then frowned at Mari, who was perched on a chair next to Rose and shredding her bread into tiny mouthfuls before consuming them with relish. “Mari’s just a stupid baby and she gets to play all day.”

Mari scowled back at Ivy and shook a chunk of bread accusingly at her. “Not baby!”

Ivy poked her tongue out. “See, you can’t even speak. You should go to lessons instead of me.”

“NO I-BEE,” screeched Mari, turning red with anger.

“Enough, girls!” Rose said sharply.

They both grudgingly stopped arguing and everyone resumed eating their breakfast.

“I should at least be allowed to go with Daven,” Ivy eventually muttered.

Daven swallowed his mouthful before speaking. He had the air of someone extremely reluctant to get involved with the argument. “I can set things on fire with my mind, Ivy, I must train with the mages.”

Ivy pouted. “Well Mama is a mage so I might be a mage.”

Rose took a calming breath. “Yes, you might be a mage, Ivy, but we won’t know until you are older. In the meantime, you need to go to lessons.”

There was a knock on the door. Daven got up to answer it at a nod from Rose.

“Healer,” said one of the Inquisition messengers politely, “I have an urgent message from Commander Cullen. He requires your presence in his office at your earliest convenience.”

Rose looked up from wiping Mari’s butter-smeared face with a clean rag. “What’s happened?” Her heart raced in fear.

_What if the Lyrium withdrawal is too distressing? I haven’t been attentive with his treatments, only sending him extra potions instead of checking on him._

“Is he unwell?” Rose asked, helping Mari down off her chair.

“He didn’t tell me, my Lady, but he said to bring the children with you.” The messenger gave her a crisp salute then left.

Rose exchanged a confused look with Daven, who shrugged.

_At least he’s obviously not sick._

Rose stood up and clapped her hands. “Alright everyone, get your shoes on, we will visit Cullen before you go to lessons.”

Mari squealed with delight and ran towards the room she shared with Ivy, re-emerging clutching one of Cullen’s handkerchiefs, now somewhat off-white and battered. “Luff Tullen,” she said firmly, positioning herself beside the door and jiggling with glee.

Rose was apprehensive about seeing Cullen. She hadn’t been able to avoid him entirely, but she’d only seen him together with the other Advisors and Della, and only as part of discussions about the needs of the Infirmary.

“I’m sure Cullen loves you too, sweetling,” she said to Mari.

“’Es, Tullen luff me.” Mari’s smile was luminous.  

_I don’t know why I’m so upset about this_ , she thought as she tied the handkerchief around Mari’s wrist to keep it safe, then pulled the toddler’s little shoes on. _It’s not as if our friendship could ever have been anything more._

She slipped her own sturdy boots on, stamping her feet to settle them inside the comfortable leather. “Alright everyone, let’s go.”

She had not acknowledged quite how much she valued his friendship until he grabbed her that day, ready to end her life if she had let a demon into her body and mind. Having her own bedroom was proving problematic too. For the first time in her adult life, excepting the months between escaping the Circle and birthing Ivy, she had a room to herself. Actual privacy, something unheard of for a Circle mage. Being able to explore the pleasure of her own body without fear of discovery was a new experience, but it was difficult to keep her thoughts away from Cullen in those moments. Something Rose had discovered to her chagrin.

_It’s not like I’m a stranger to human sexuality, for Maker’s sake._

She had experimented in the usual fashion of young mages, finding the occasional willing partner and an empty supply closet in the Circle. She’d had sex numerous times with Martin and took what pleasure she could from it. Not a lot, but she understood the theory of why it might be enjoyable. She’d advised plenty of patients about sexual matters, with neither judgement nor shame. Apparently though, she was unable to keep her own carnal imaginings away from one person she could never have.

_I think I need some smutty literature. That might help give me something else to think about. A fictional character to lust after, not an actual person._

“Mama!” Ivy’s voice intruded on her daydreaming. “Cullen’s office is over there.”

Rose looked up. It appeared she’d defaulted to heading towards the infirmary whilst she was distracted. She laughed at her own foolish thoughts and shook her head. “Lead the way,” she said, gesturing to Ivy.

Cullen answered Daven’s knock on his office door wearing a shirt and breeches. He always seemed a little smaller and more approachable when he didn’t wear armour.

“HI TULLEN,” squealed Mari, holding her arms up to him. He scooped the toddler up and held her with his left arm. She waved his former handkerchief in his face. “Look, Tullen. LOOK.”

He squinted at the cloth, then raised his eyebrows in recognition. “Ah,” he said, “I am glad you appreciate my handkerchief, Mari.”

She gave a wordless squeak of joy and wrapped her little arms around his neck. He laughed softly then looked at Rose and the other children.

“Hello Cullen,” said Ivy, smiling innocently like she hadn’t misbehaved at breakfast.

“Good morning Cullen.” Rose’s voice was flat.

“Commander,” intoned Daven, nodding gravely.

Rose looked down at the elven boy and ruffled his hair. He’d been very sombre since his magic came to the fore. The trauma of Haven’s fall was something they’d all take time to recover from, but it was important that the children were made to feel safe and secure in their new home. Daven was experiencing the effects of the tragedy more than the girls, Rose felt.

Cullen returned their greetings, his eyes flicking briefly to Rose before he turned and pointed to something behind his desk with his free right hand. “Take a look,” he said to Daven and Ivy. He moved around so Mari could view whatever the children were looking at. Rose kept her distance from him, avoiding eye contact.

Ivy emitted an unholy shriek of delight. “MAMA. MESSERE FLUFFY HAS LAID BABIES ON CULLEN’S COAT.”

_He’s done what on what?_ she thought in alarm.

Rose moved so she could see Messere Fluffy behind the desk. He, or rather she, was happily curled up on the fur ruff of Cullen’s coat, with three tiny, fluffy, kittens. One was pure white, and the other two were bright orange.

Rose stared in shock at the new family. “Well, shit,” she said.

“Shit,” repeated Mari, grinning broadly and grabbing Cullen’s ear in excitement.

“Swearing in front of children is inappropriate, Mama Rose,” said Daven, looking up from where he was patting the proud new mother.

Rose sighed but ignored Daven’s rebuke. “I apologise and will ensure that your coat is appropriately laundered,” she said stiffly to Cullen, keeping her gaze on Messere Fluffy. The insufferable cat was looking smug.

“You should not use your swears Mama,” said Ivy sternly, glaring over her shoulder at Rose, “and you should not say sorry for wonderful kittens.”

“Luff tittens,” said Mari, gazing fondly at the babies.

“They are all girls,” Cullen said, wincing a little at Mari’s grasp of his ear.

Rose raised her eyebrows. “Even the gingers? I thought they were usually boys.”

Cullen nodded. “Even the gingers. We had a lot of kittens growing up, I am quite skilled at identifying the sex.”

“By the stone, Cullen,” said Della, entering the office without knocking halfway through Cullen’s sentence. “The things I hear you say.”

Cullen made a strangled noise.

“Hey Rose, what’s happening?” said the dwarven woman. “Oh, hi nuglets.”

The children all looked around at the newcomer.

Ivy beckoned towards the Inquisitor. “Della! Come and see Messere Fluffy’s beautiful new family.”

“Shit,” said Mari again cheerfully, causing Rose to groan and pinch the bridge of her nose.

“Good morning Inquisitor,” said Daven gravely.

Della walked over to the children to admire the kittens. Rose was pleased to see she was moving comfortably. Even with magical healing she’d been concerned that Della might lose some toes to the frostbite, but that had not been the case.

The Inquisitor looked at Messere Fluffy’s choice of birthing bed, then back at Cullen, grinning broadly. “I always said that furry mantle would make a wonderful animal nest, didn’t I, Commander?”

“Yes you did,” replied Cullen with a long suffering air.

“Brilliant,” said Della to Messere Fluffy, “fu… ah, fudging brilliant job, cat.” Della sat down with the children, and gently stroked the kittens.

Rose smiled at the sight of the Herald of Andraste, sitting on the floor surrounded by children and cats. Mari wiggled in Cullen’s arms, so he set her down on the ground. She scurried over and plonked herself in Della’s lap. Rose watched Cullen out of the corner of her eye. Now he wasn’t holding Mari he stood stiffly at parade rest, as he often did when he wasn’t armed, but he shifted occasionally and glanced in her direction like he wanted to say something to her. She resolutely kept her eyes on the tableau behind Cullen’s desk.

Della looked at Daven. “I hear you are our newest Inquisition mage,” she said. 

Daven puffed out his skinny chest proudly. “Rose has been giving me some magic lessons, but today is the first day of my apprenticeship.”

Della grinned. “Well you need to study hard so you can come with me on field duty when you are grown. My team has done nothing but complain about our upcoming journey to the Fallow Mire. We could use a sensible person such as yourself.”

Daven looked like he desperately wanted to salute, but he restrained himself to a short nod. “Yes, Inquisitor.”

“What about me?” said Ivy plaintively. “Can I come with you on field duty?”

“Of course, when you are all grown up too. You might be a powerful mage like your mother…”

Rose winced at the sudden reminder she’d been unable to save many people during and after the fall of Haven, regardless of her skill with magic. Aalidis’s white waxy face after she and the baby had died came to mind, and she swallowed heavily.

“…or you might be skilled with daggers like me or a sword like Cullen,” Della continued. “People who use rogue skills need to read and write and do sums.”

“Why?” asked Ivy curiously.

Della paused, and suddenly adopted the facial expression of someone struggling to recall non-criminal ways in which she’d used her literacy. “For, um, writing letters to friends. Or working out which fancy new dagger from the blacksmith is best value for your gold. Ah, and reading books about pirates.”

“Pirates,” said Ivy with a tone of great consideration, “and daggers. Okay Della, thank you.”

Della picked up the white kitten and looked over at Rose, clearly keen to change the topic of conversation. “Have you thought about homes for them? Dorian mentioned he’d like to get a cat. Yes he would, yes he would you ickle fluffy baby.” She booped noses with the tiny kitten, who made a shrill meeping noise.

“We only just found out about them five minutes before you, Della,” said Rose. “I’m still recovering from the fact Messere Fluffy is a girl.”

Messere Fluffy looked up at Rose and let out a reproachful chirp.

Rose made a face at her cat. “Alright, I’m sorry I misgendered you. I should never have assumed your large size indicated a male.”

“Mama,” said Ivy reproachfully. “Calling people fat is very unkind. You’ve hurt her feelings.”

Rose pinched the bridge of her nose again. “And I’m sorry for implying you were fat, Messere Fluffy.”

Cullen made a choking sound that sounded like he was suppressing a laugh. Della had no such compunction and giggled openly.

Cullen cleared his throat. “Why are you here, Inquisitor? We weren’t due to meet until mid-morning.”

Della stood up, gently placing the kitten back with her mother. “I heard the lovely healer was here.” She held up her glowing left hand and waggled her fingers. “I need more ass cream for my hand.”

“I can make that for you today, we got a delivery of herbs yesterday. Which reminds me, could you keep an eye out for Dawn Lotus in the Fallow Mire? Many of the soldiers are suffering from carbuncles, and an emulsion of Dawn Lotus is the most effective cure.”

“Of course. Now I need to get to training, I’ll swing by the infirmary later on in the day for my ass cream.”

“I’ll see you then.” Rose looked back at Cullen. “We should be going too.”

The children all bid reluctant farewells to Messere Fluffy and family, then ran out of the door into the sunshine.

Rose moved towards the open door. “I’ll arrange accommodations for the cats in our quarters, and get your coat cleaned and returned to you.”

“Rose.” Cullen’s voice was low.

Rose pretended she hadn’t heard him, but he caught her arm as she went to follow the children. At his touch she instinctively jumped backwards and seized her magic, casting a barrier over herself. Cullen winced, and held both hands up, showing her he wasn’t a threat.

They stared at each other. The children had already left the office and waited impatiently further along the castle wall, seemingly oblivious to the tension between the adults, though in her peripheral vision Rose saw Daven shooting them some concerned looks.

Cullen licked his lips and then spoke. “That day.”

Rose didn’t move or drop the barrier.

“That day,” he continued, “after Haven, when you were… upset.”

Rose exhaled a disbelieving breath at his choice of words. “The day where you would have killed me?”

Cullen looked pained. He rubbed the back of his neck and stared at the ground.

Rose rolled her eyes as she finally let go of her magic and the barrier dissipated. “Well, Cullen, you were just doing your job, weren’t you? You did what you had to do to keep the Inquisition safe. Templars think all mages are abominations waiting to happen,” she said, her voice growing bitter. “Why would I be any different?”

He looked back at her then, his gaze steady. “I don’t think my actions are quite as easy to predict as you are thinking.”

Rose shut her eyes. The memories of Cullen’s sword pointed at her were still too strong. She shook her head silently.

Ivy had wandered back over to them. “Mama? Can we go now? I want to go to lessons and tell the others about the lovely kittens and learn about buying daggers.”

Despite herself, Rose opened her eyes and laughed. “You want to go to lessons now? Alright.”

Cullen was still staring at her, looking stricken. “Rose, I…”

“Thank you for going against your training and checking that I was still human before you beheaded me,” Rose interrupted him smoothly. She swept out of the door and didn’t look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah maybe don’t go around grabbing Rose when she’s not expecting it!
> 
> Also, yay kittens :D   
> The line “MAMA. MESSERE FLUFFY HAS LAID BABIES ON CULLEN’S COAT” was the only thing I had planned word for word since before I started writing this story! My kids always used to refer to people and animals ‘laying babies’ when they were around Ivy’s age, but I could never work out why. Confused between chickens laying eggs and mammals giving birth maybe? I dunno, but it always made me laugh so I had to include it here.


	17. Chapter 17

**Patient responsive after four days in a comatose state** , Rose wrote in the logbook. **She underwent magical healing each day to discourage the overabundance of phlegmatic humours and prevent a reoccurrence of the dropsy. Ongoing therapy will involve medicinal intake of a garlic tincture and the regular application of a rosemary compress. Patient to be cautioned on the dangers of an ongoing consumption of fish.**

She carefully positioned the quill back in its holder and replaced the lid on the inkpot. A bouquet of bedraggled mountain daisies had pride of place on her desk, which was situated under a window in her office in the infirmary. Daven had delivered the flowers yesterday, as apparently the mage apprentices had been out scouring the mountainside for alchemical ingredients as part of their training. Narrow cots had been placed on each side of her office, in case she needed to see patients in private.

Without ceremony, Della stumped into the room. Her leather armour was muddy, and she had a fierce scowl and a sack that smelled distinctly like fresh Dawn Lotus. “Fuck the Fallow Mire.”

Rose leaned back in her chair and smiled. “Welcome back to Skyhold, Inquisitor.”

Della tossed her head dramatically, before dropping the sack on the floor. “Can you look at my feet, Rose? That fucking terrible fucking place was the worst fucking damp fucking nightmare I’ve ever fucking experienced. It’s fucked my feet.”

“Surely it wasn’t that bad?” said Rose, grimacing in sympathy. “You weren’t there for very long, you were away for less than a fortnight.”

“It’s fucking damaged me,” Della said grimly. “I can’t even fucking talk about that fucking horrible fucking swamp without fucking swearing.”

Rose stood up and laughed. “Sit down on the cot and take your boots off. I’ll examine your feet now.”

Della sank onto the nearest cot with a groan of pleasure. “It was miserable there. Walking corpses, endless swamps, unnecessary amounts of demons. Vivienne stopped speaking to me after her second pair of boots got ruined by swamp slime.”

Rose helped the dwarven woman pull her boots off, managing not to flinch at the swampy smell clinging to the worn leather.

Della swung her legs up onto the cot and shimmied down so she could flop onto her back. “Bull and Blackwall managed okay.” Her cheeks pinked at the mention of the Warden she was doggedly trying to seduce. “No joy on the Blackwall sexing front, stupid man still thinks I’m too good for him and that he doesn’t deserve me.”

Rose slowly peeled Della’s socks down, revealing feet that were red, wrinkled and blistered. She threw the socks over the boots. “Stay put right there,” she scolded, pointing at Della. “I’ll know if you move.”

“Yes Mother,” replied Della, rolling her eyes.

Rose went into the main room of the infirmary to request that a runner fetch the Inquisitor some dry footwear. After sending off the runner she purloined a Ghoul’s beard and Witherstalk oil salve from the collection Adan had stored in his cupboard in the new potion room. Kalara gave her a conspiratorial wink when she saw what Rose had taken. As she walked back into her office, there was a mewing noise from the corner beside her desk and Della was looking intrigued.

“Are there kittens in your office, Healer?”

Rose sighed as she used her foot to push the wet footwear out of the door. “The kittens are supposed to stay in our quarters, but Messere Fluffy insists on them being here with me so she can hunt off and on during the day. She keeps carrying them down here one by one if I leave them behind.”

Della roared with laughter. “She obviously thinks you are her co-parent.”

Rose laughed too. “That’s probably fair, she’s always been wonderful with the human children. Now it’s my turn to help her.” Rose moved over to the basket and gently picked up the white kitten, then handed her to Della. “This one is going to Dorian. He’s named her Beatrice.”

“Hello precious baby,” crooned Della, kissing the furry forehead of the kitten. Beatrice Pavus blinked sleepily back at her.

Rose sat down on the cot beside Della’s bare feet “Josephine is taking one of the gingers, and Cullen is planning to send King Alistair the other.”

Della raised her eyebrows. “A royal cat. That’s one way to spread Inquisition influence.” The Inquisitor smiled as Beatrice curled up on her stomach and went back to sleep.

“Ivy’s been calling the royal kitten ‘Princess Beautiful’. Hopefully the King comes up with another name.” Rose took Della’s left foot in hand and examined it for signs of infection.

Della carefully pushed herself up onto her elbows and made a sour face. “I dried my socks as well as I could in the tent each night, but it rained most of the way back here. Because of course it did. After that swampy fucking swamp.”

Rose hummed in affirmation. “You have mild Immersion Foot. You need to keep your feet clean, warm and dry and go barefoot in your quarters.” She pulled the bottle of salve from her pocket and began to apply the mixture to the most irritated areas of the Herald’s feet.

Della sniffed the air. “Smells like a contraceptive potion,” she said, “you worried my feet are going to produce a baby dwarf?”

Rose snorted in amusement. “Witherstalk is useful for more than just preventing pregnancy. Which reminds me, do you need me to send up another box of the contraceptive potions?”

Della groaned and flopped backwards. “I haven’t touched any of the last lot you gave me. Paragons only know who the servants think I’m sexing with the huge number of potions you sent. Along with those terrifying Orlesian letters. Dwarves aren’t known for their fertility at the best of times.”

Rose squinted as she examined between Della’s toes. “You can never be too cautious,” she said absently. “Reproductive control is important for women.”

“I don’t even want to fuck anyone except Blackwall,” Della said gloomily. “I actually really like him, Rose.”

Rose made a considering noise as she took Della’s right foot in hand, soothing the salve across the painful skin. “You can’t force someone into a relationship. Work on your friendship first, get to know each other better.”

Della stroked Beatrice as she stared up at the stone ceiling. The kitten began to purr loudly, and Della smiled. “That sounds terrifying, but strangely reasonable.”

Rose raised her eyebrows as she gently placed Della’s foot back on the cot. “Thank you. I’ve sent for some clean shoes and socks, but you must go barefoot whenever possible.”

“Yes Rose, I’ll be good and follow your instructions. Oh, that reminds me, can you attend the council meeting this afternoon? Josephine flagged me down on my way here and asked me to pass on the message.”

Rose wrinkled her nose, slightly apprehensive. “I suppose I could do that. What is it regarding?”

Della shrugged, disturbing Beatrice who mewed in protest. “Some diplomatic shitfuckery no doubt. I find it best just to let Josie do what she wants in that area.”

Rose hummed noncommittally.

Della sat up and dangled her bare feet over the edge of the cot, cradling the kitten in her arms. “Are you still torturing the Commander?”

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” replied Rose shiftily. She hopped up from the bed and picked up the sack, placing it gently on her desk.

“You must still be avoiding him because he sounded even grumpier than usual in the tactical updates he sent me. Even the ravens he used looked foul tempered.”

Rose narrowed her eyes. “I haven’t been avoiding him.”

“You’re a terrible liar,” said Della, cocking her head to the side as she studied Rose’s face. “Look Rose, I was always a fuck ‘em and leave ‘em kinda gal, but even I can see you clearly have feelings for each other.”

Rose paced the small room. “He assumed I’d used blood magic and pointed a sword at me.”

Della grinned toothily. “Hah, I bet that’s not the only sword he wants to point at you.”

“Oh Makers balls, Della. I don’t need bad memories of templar shitfuckery, as you would say, being dredged up by the man I might have feelings for.”

“Well, I don’t know all that much about mages and templars.”

Rose folded her arms around herself as she paced. “No, you don’t.”

Della lifted Beatrice up for another kiss, before settling the little animal back down to drape across the top of her bosom. “But what I do know is that anyone would have drawn their weapon in that situation.”

Rose frowned as Aalidis’s face came prominently to mind, followed closely by images of all the dead bodies in and around Haven. “I was upset.”

“There was an explosion.” Della finally sounded exasperated.

Rose got the distinct impression she was being lectured like a recalcitrant child. It was odd being the receiver rather than the giver. “An explosion of ice,” she muttered.

“That’s still an explosion Rose. An explosion you sustained injuries from,” said the Inquisitor, gesturing wildly with the hand that wasn’t supporting Beatrice. “That whole day was a clusterfuck. Anyone would approach that situation with weapons drawn and certain assumptions and you know it.”

Rose sighed and sat on the edge of her desk, pushing the logbook away first. “Yes, I’m aware of that. I know he didn’t even realise it was me when he drew his sword. But seeing him like that hurt. Perhaps I needed the reminder that he was a templar and I am a mage. Those relationships never work.”

“That’s druffaloshit.” Della rolled her eyes.

“That’s factually correct. He was a templar and I am a mage.”

“Still druffaloshit,” Della retorted. “You just want to be miserable.”

Rose studied the clean stone floor and frowned. “I’m perfectly happy.”

“You could be happier. Yes, you’ve had bad shit happen to you, but we all have.” Della’s voice drifted faraway for a moment before she pulled herself back to the present. “You can’t let the people who have hurt you stop you from living your life now. Half the world has been fucked over at some point by the other half. You can’t let that stop you. Don’t let the bad guys win.”

Rose swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. “Hmm.”

“At the very least be friends with him again. If nothing else, Rose, we all need him to calm the fuck down. He’s happier when you are around.”

Rose huffed a small fond laugh at the recollection of how prickly Cullen could be. “You’re right, I suppose.”

“Of course I am.” Della got a mischievous look on her face. “Also you should fuck him.”

Rose groaned. “Della!”

“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, if anyone needs to get laid it’s you two. Conveniently, it could be with each other.”

“Della.”

“Oh fine. Go and be friends with him again. By the divine order of the Herald of Andraste.” Della grinned and kissed Beatrice’s nose.

 

***

 

Rose took a breath and pushed open the heavy door to the war council room. Cullen looked over at her from where he stood behind the vast table and she gave him a small smile. He looked surprised and then smiled back. He was wearing his now-clean coat. The fur mantle still looked a little bedraggled from Messere Fluffy giving birth on it, but it was clean and dry.  

“Healer Rose,” said Josephine, nodding respectfully. “So pleased you could join us.”

“Thank you?” Rose said cautiously, recalling the circumstances of the last time the Advisors summoned her before the council, when they announced they’d been in contact with her father.

Josephine gave her a kind smile. “We would like you to attend the Empress’s Ball at Halamshiral.”

_So. Diplomatic shitfuckery it is then._

“This is the plan to take down Corypheus?” Rose said lightly, stalling for time to consider the implications of the request. “Through the power of dance?”

“Well obviously I wanted to castrate him,” said Della from where she was sitting cross legged at one end of the war table. “But I’m told it’s unlikely he has a cock or balls anymore, so dancing it is.”

_It’ll be a power play, gaining alliances for the upcoming escalation of conflict. Maker, it’s been a long time since I’ve had anything to do with the Great Game._

Josephine had assumed a long-suffering expression. “I think we’ve discussed the Elder One’s genitalia enough times in this council, Inquisitor.”

“It is vital for gaining high ranking Orlesian contacts, Healer,” Leliana said smoothly.

Rose flashed a wry smile in return. “I assume I would not be attending as Rose the apostate physician?”

Josephine nodded in confirmation. “You are also Lady Trevelyan of Ostwick, a high-ranking member of the Inquisition.”

Rose sighed as her assumption was proven correct. “Being a mage negates that, as the Orlesians would be well aware.”

“The perception of nobility is a powerful tool,” murmured Leliana.

Josephine leaned forward and gazed at Rose earnestly. “You are still who you are. And in today’s political climate, the story of you becoming an apostate to protect your love child is a romantic one.”

“You mean my bastard child? The one whom my brother died for?”

“I’m sorry Rose.” Josephine tapped her quill on her ledger as she narrowed her eyes in thought. “Would it help to know your children are welcome to travel with us? Not to attend the ball of course, but the estate where we will stay would be safe enough.”

The plan had merit, and the idea of using her family name openly as a mage had a certain appeal now that her shock over her father’s awareness of her whereabouts had long since faded. He’d made no attempt to contact her. She used to enjoy dancing a long time ago, and they weren’t particularly busy in the infirmary. The children would also enjoy a journey, and it would be educational for them to see more of Thedas.

“Alright,” Rose said, coming to a decision. “I’ll be one of your pet nobles.”

Josephine flashed her a brilliant smile. “Thank you. You can dance, I assume?”

Rose leaned against the table, relaxing a little. “Yes, I had years of dancing lessons, deportment classes and etiquette training. As much good as those things do me when I’m up to my elbows in other people’s body fluids.”

“Excellent, you can assist with the dancing tutorage I’ve organised for those Inquisition members who need it.”

Cullen and Della both made sour faces. Leliana looked smug.

“It’s a waste of time, Ambassador,” muttered Cullen. He was fiddling with a figurine of a chevalier and looking sulky.

“Nonsense,” replied Josephine briskly. “You must think of it as a battlefield. A battlefield of manners and grace and charm.”

Cullen’s expression changed to horrified. “That sounds far worse than a real battlefield.”

Della looked up, a gleam in her eye. “You can dance with the lovely Healer here.”

Rose felt her cheeks flush. Moving past what happened between them was one thing, dancing together was quite another. “I have no experience in teaching other people to dance. And it’s been years since I danced myself.”

Leliana looked as amused as someone who wasn’t smiling could. “Vivienne has organised a dance instructor from Val Royeaux. We just need competent partners for our, ah, less experienced dancers.”

Cullen made a sad noise. Josephine looked at him unsympathetically. “It’s imperative you learn to dance. Healer Rose won’t bite you, Commander. I’m certain she’ll be a simply lovely dance partner.”

“You don’t know that I won’t bite,” muttered Rose.

Cullen’s ears flushed red and Josephine hid a smile behind her ledger.

Della snorted. “What about me? If I must dance with someone who isn’t a dwarf, can they at least be a man? My face is at breast level for most of the women. You have lovely tits, Rose, but I don’t particularly want my face squished into them.” Her face brightened. “Though I can think of someone who mi…”

“We will pair you with Dorian for the practice, Inquisitor,” Josephine interrupted smoothly. “And negotiations are ongoing for Cassandra to pair with Warden Blackwall.”

Rose resolutely avoided looking at Cullen during the discussion about her breasts, and instead focused on Josephine. “Cassandra can dance?”

“She can indeed, Healer.”

Leliana’s usually stern face softened into a brief smile. “As it happens, she’s rather good at it. I am confident my negotiations with her will be successful. I am aware that Varric has certain skills that may be employed in the service of convincing her.”

Della looked intrigued. “You’re going to get Varric to fuck Cassandra in return for her agreeing to dance practice?”

Leliana’s eyebrow twitched but her expression remained neutral. “Literary skills, Inquisitor.”

Rose covered her laugh by coughing into her hand.

Della looked saddened. “Well that’s disappointing. I think they would be compatible. Almost as compatible as Rose and the Co…”

Cullen spoke over the top of Della this time. His whole face was blushing now. “Not everything is resolved by, ah, sexual relations, Inquisitor.”

His voice suddenly reminded her of the intimate thoughts she’d been having about him when she was alone at night. She grimaced and pictured the ugliest carbuncles she’d ever seen. Anything to avoid carnal thoughts of the man standing near her.

Della rolled her eyes dramatically at getting interrupted again. “Says the most uptight Ferelden I’ve ever met. And that’s saying something.”

“Was there anything else you needed me for?” said Rose, feeling like it might be time for a graceful exit before Cullen combusted and she was forced to think of nothing but carbuncles.

Shaking her head, Josephine said “Thank you, no, Healer. Though if you could wear a dress to the practice tomorrow? It would give the Commander practice in not tripping over anything his dance partners wears. Orlesian fashions are very, shall we say, voluminous.”

Rose let out a long breath. “Ambassador, I don’t own a dress. I haven’t owned a dress since I left the Circle.”

Cullen spoke at the same time. “You expect me to dance with non-Inquisition members?” He looked like someone about to undergo a ritual sacrifice.

Josephine’s good-natured expression fell slightly. “We expect you to do your part to uphold the status of the Inquisition in your capacity as Commander of our forces, Cullen. And Rose, I’ll have suitable clothing sent to your quarters.”

“Maker’s breath,” said Cullen, not bothering to hide his dismay.

Rose frowned. “Alright, but if I get blood and pus on the dress beforehand, that’s not my fault.”

Josephine’s lips thinned. “I’ll also send a large apron along.”

“Well. Good afternoon all,” Rose nodded politely to the Advisors and Della. Cullen was now looking pensive as well as pink, but he gave her another little smile.

They all bid her farewell. Della blew her a kiss.

“You just have to look pretty, Commander,” Rose heard Leliana’s voice saying as she left the room, suddenly apprehensive that tomorrow, she would be in Cullen’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming up next chapter, Cullen and Rose fiiiinally get to be in close physical proximity. I really did mean that Slow Burn tag, haha. 
> 
> FYI Immersion Foot is an old-fashioned term for Trench Foot. And in case anyone doesn’t know, Trench Foot is caused by keeping your feet cold and wet for very long periods of time. In WW1 soldiers suffered from it because they didn’t have drainage in the trenches so they were often one big deep puddle on the bottom. It was bloody horrific - almost 100 000 soldiers died from Trench Foot, as it can cause infections leading to gangrene (imagine how your skin gets wrinkly when you’re in the bath or the pool for ages, but then you never get dry and chunks of your flesh eventually start falling off. That’s Trench Foot).
> 
> (sorry for the lecture, I’m a bit of a history nerd!)


	18. Chapter 18

“Blehh,” said Jonty, nibbling lightly on Rose’s shoulder.

“Yes sweetling, it’s nice to see you too,” replied Rose as she examined the goat’s swollen hoof.

“As you can see, the poultices aren’t working on the condition. I wondered if you might use that fancy magical healing on him.” Master Dennet was crouched beside Rose in Jonty and Ser Betsy’s stall in the stables.

The physician rocked back on her heels a little and hummed in contemplation. “I have a solid knowledge of elven and human physiology. My dwarven is improving because I gave Dagna some of my hair and blood in return for her letting me magically examine her. But goat? I’ve never tried healing a goat before.”

“As I see it, can’t do any harm.”

Jonty bleated pitifully.

Rose closed her eyes and grasped her magic and her senses came to life. Abruptly she became acutely aware of the smell of dung in the stables, the noise of two stablehands chatting several stalls over, the crunch of Ser Betsy eating a carrot from beside the gate.

The structure of Jonty’s leg was unfamiliar, but not overly so. She could still sense the movement of blood around his body, the way muscles connected to bones, all encased by flesh, just as in her two-legged patients. There was an infection, and she soothed the worst of it.

She opened her eyes again and examined the hoof. There was still swelling, but it had markedly improved.

Dennet nodded in approval. “If you get tired of dealing with patients who can talk, you are always welcome to come and work at the stables.”

“Thank you,” Rose said as she patted Jonty’s head. “I’ll keep that in mind when I’m practicing to attend the Empress’s ball.”

Dennet visibly shuddered. “Bunch of bloody pointless flim flam. If you’ll excuse my language my Lady.”

They both looked up as an Inquisition soldier came to the door of the stall. “There you are,” the newcomer said. “We need you Master Dennet. You too Lady Healer.”

Dennet stood, wincing as he straightened his right knee. “What do you need me for lad?”

Rose also stood and eyed Dennet, making a mental note to send him a salve for joint pain.

“There is a man throwing goats at Skyhold’s walls,” said young man. “Commander Cullen is worried he might be of unsound mind.”

Rose made a confused noise. “Someone is throwing goats at Skyhold and there is still a question about their mental state?”

Dennet blinked. “And why do you require me for that?”

“The Commander wanted someone to rescue the goats after the man stops throwing them.”

Rose and Dennet looked at each other. The stablemaster shrugged. “This seems like it will be fun. Coming with me, lass?”

“I wouldn’t miss this for all the riches of Thedas.”

Rose, Dennet and the soldier made their way out of the gates of Skyhold, through a group of curious soldiers and along the outcropping below the walls and onto a ledge. Gatsi the stonemason had apparently been there recently as there were piles of broken masonry and some discarded tools.

Cullen stood with his arms folded a little further down, surrounded by bleating goats and looking highly disgruntled.

The soldier saluted Cullen, fist to chest. “I found them, Ser Commander.”

“Just Commander is fine, Miller,” said Cullen, sounding distracted. His gaze was on a point further down the walls, but he turned to face the newcomers. “Rose, Dennet, thank you for coming.”

“Hello Cullen,” Rose murmured. Vivienne had scheduled their first dance practice for that afternoon and she’d been trying hard to not dwell on the fact she and Cullen would be to dancing together. She picked her way through the throng of goats to stand beside the Commander. She looked over to where his gaze had been when they arrived. An Avvar man wearing blue painted furs and a helmet with enormous horns stood further down the narrow ledge with his own posse of goats and human warriors. As she watched, the man in the fur picked up the nearest goat and hurled it at Skyhold’s wall.

“Maker’s breath,” said Cullen, with the air of a person who was having an extremely long morning.

The goat landed on its feet and shook itself, then trotted over to where Cullen and Rose were with a cheerful “Mehh” of greeting. It looked to have a few scrapes but was otherwise unharmed.

Dennet crouched amongst the goats, checking them for injuries.

“Well,” said Rose. “This is… um…”

One of the warriors waved a large stick of incense behind the goat thrower. The faint scent of Crystal Grace drifted over.

“He claims his name is Movran the Under,” said Cullen, “and he is the chieftain of Edvarr Hold.”

Movran the Under hurled another goat at the wall.

“Good for him,” said Rose. “But why is he tossing goats?”

“Well I was going to ask you that. I thought you might have some medical insight?”

“He seems calm enough,” said Rose, bending to pat the newest goat who had joined the herd, “contrary to appearances I don’t think he’s having any kind of breakdown.”

Cullen irritably twitched his coat out of the mouth of a goat, who bleated at him in dismay at the loss of its snack.

“They just have cuts and bruising,” said Dennet. “These mountain goats are a hardy breed.”

“He’s only got two goats left,” said Rose. “We should see what he does afterwards. I can keep us unharmed if needs be until we can make it back to the gates.”

Another goat hit the wall then jogged over, staring at Cullen.

“They like you, Commander,” said Dennet, clearly trying to suppress a smile. “You seem to have a natural affinity with goats.”

Rose coughed into her fist so that she didn’t laugh.  

“Maker’s. Breath. It’s a plague of goats,” said Cullen, through gritted teeth.

The final goat bounced off the wall and fell awkwardly. It tried to stand but couldn’t.

“Ahh fuck,” muttered Rose, before she carefully picked her way over to it. Cullen followed, and she looked over her shoulder at him. “I like to think I’m safe against the wrath of an injured goat, Commander.”

He rolled his eyes. “Just a precaution, in case Movran the Under gets ideas.”

Rose glanced over at the attackers. They all stood politely in place, observing her keenly. The warrior with the incense waved it at her. “Ideas. Quite.” She knelt beside the goat. Its front left leg appeared to have been fractured by the impact with Skyhold’s wall. “You’re lucky I’ve recently acquired some skill as a goat physician,” she said to the creature who gave her a blank stare in return.   

She was aware of the gasps from Movran the Under and his companions as she sent a wave of healing into the injured animal. It scrambled to its feet as soon as she finished and scurried over to join its brethren.

“We are ready to submit to the forces of Skyhold,” boomed the fur clad goat-thrower, giving Cullen the gimlet eye. “We thank you for the honour of bringing your clan shaman to witness our ceremony.”

Movran the Under and men all nodded respectfully at Rose as she stood up and exchanged a glance with Cullen. She resisted the urge to conjure up a blizzard to show off as ‘clan shaman’. There was a vein throbbing on Cullen’s forehead, and she thought he probably wouldn’t see the humour in it.

The men all disarmed and willingly surrendered themselves to the custody of the soldiers who had previously been waiting at the gates.

Dennet watched proceedings from amongst the sizable herd of goats the Inquisition had now acquired. “I can take this lot down to the refugee camp,” said the stablemaster. “There’s a mix of males and females.”

“That was thoughtful of Movran the Under,” murmured Rose. 

Cullen looked over at the Inquisition’s newest four-legged members and his eye twitched. “I’m going back to work,” he said. “My thanks to you both for your assistance.”

 

***

 

Self-consciousness washed over Rose as she descended the stairs to the side of Josephine’s office. She smoothed the bodice of her dress down. It wasn’t terrible, as far as dresses went. It had been created in a Ferelden noble style, in a deep forest green with a lighter green bodice with a gold piped trim. The garment was totally impractical for any kind of honest work, but it had enchanted Mari a few minutes ago when Rose had gone back to the family quarters to change.

She took a deep breath to calm her melancholic humours and therefore her anxiety. If she was honest with herself, she was very much looking forward to dancing with Cullen. Looking forward to it, but also nervous.

It appeared she was the final person to arrive. Vivienne was talking quietly with two men in the corner, presumably the instructors, though the men had their backs to Rose. Della was chatting animatedly to Blackwall and Dorian, narrating a story by the looks of her gesticulations. Cassandra stood nearby, arms folded and frowning. Rose approached Cullen, who was hovering at the edge of the group and looking uncomfortable.

He looked her up and down, his eyes wide.

“Did Dennet get the goats to the refugee camps?” she asked by way of greeting.

He blinked at her, then shook himself. “Ah, yes.” He paused, then said, “You’re wearing a Ferelden dress.”

Rose glanced down at herself, feeling awkward. “That’s all Josephine could find. I was lucky really, I could have ended up with an Orlesian monstrosity. I don’t have to wear a mask and I don’t need a corset for this one.” He was still staring at her and she felt her cheeks grow warm. “Um. Corsets are awful you know, terribly unbalancing for the humours.”

“That is um, hmm. You look… hmm, you look very nice.” Cullen’s face looked as red as hers. He gestured vaguely at her. “It is all, ah, quite flattering.”

Rose’s palms grew sweaty at the compliment. “Oh. Oh, thank you.”

Cassandra strode over to them, scowling. “Commander, Healer. I would say it was pleasant to see you both but there is nothing pleasant about dancing.”

Rose pulled her gaze away from Cullen and smiled at the Nevarran woman. “Hello Seeker. Shouldn’t you be wearing a dress for dancing?”

Cassandra shook her head. “That was not part of our negotiations.”

Rose scowled and gave her skirts a desultory kick. “Well. I should have demanded a negotiation.” She sneaked a look at Cullen, who still looked poleaxed. “Or maybe not.”

One of the men talking to Vivienne turned around. He was tall, dark-haired and wearing a heavily plumed Orlesian mask with a beak. He clapped his hands. “Now everyone,” he said loudly, “please line up with your partners.”

“I feel like a recruit again,” muttered Cullen, staying close to Rose.

“You should be fine so long as you haven’t been breaking curfew or sneaking treats into the barracks,” Rose whispered.

Cullen huffed a laugh and the Orlesian man shot him a glare. “I am known only as Monsieur M,” announced the masked man. “You may address me as such.”

He was so pompous that Rose grinned, feeling lighter and more cheerful than she could remember being in a long time. She leaned closer to Cullen. “You may address me as Clan Shaman R,” she whispered to him, “and you shall be known as Goat Wrangler C.”

Cullen burst out laughing and Monsieur M scowled heavily. The other Inquisition members looked curious and Della grinned broadly from the other side of Cullen and gave Rose two thumbs up.

Monsieur M came to stand in front of her and Cullen, looking them both up and down. “Now you,” he said to Rose. “You are a noblewoman?”

“Theoretically, Monsieur,” she said, her voice dry.

“Well then, I expect you to uphold the highest standards for the Inquisition. It is a shame they have you dressed so shabbily in Ferelden garb.”

She could see Cullen stir out of the corner of her eye and she reached over to squeeze his gloved fingers to reassure him that the insult had not upset her.

She let go of Cullen’s hand and gave the dancing master her brightest smile. “Oh I would have worn the finest ballgown from my extensive collection, but one of my patients bled all over it.” She kept her voice deadpan.

Monsieur M winced and his mask twitched. “Quite,” he said eventually.

“Orlesians,” Cullen muttered darkly under his breath.

Monsieur M moved on to Cullen and looked him up and down. “Well are you not the deliciously handsome golden fellow. But. Kindly take your armour off,” he said. “The poorly dressed noblewoman is your partner, no? You do not want to crush the bosom of a lovely lady against all that metal.”

Rose raised her eyebrows. “My bosom is fine, really.”

“Does the armour even come off?” said Dorian, leaning forward from his spot on the far side of Della.

“I insist, you cannot drape yourselves in the true power and majesty of the dance wearing a metal cage.”

Cullen sighed heavily. “I’ll take it off.”

Della was still on the other side of Cullen, and Monsieur M gave her a smile as he positioned himself in front of her. “Ahh, the most important person of all, the blessed Herald of Andraste.”

“Monsieur M,” said Della in a dubious tone. “It’s a pleasure to meet you?”

Cullen moved to the side of the room and Rose went with him to assist with his buckles. Vivienne watched them both through narrowed eyes from her position beside the lute player.

“Anyone who needs to wear a mask must be hiding something,” said Cullen, scowling back at where Monsieur M was conversing with Della.

“Lift your arms,” said Rose, nudging his left arm upwards in emphasis. He obliged, and she swiftly unbuckled the side buckles of his breastplate. “I think you’d look rather fetching in a mask. A lion perhaps? With extra plumage.”

Cullen made a discontented noise. “I’m going to ignore that since I know you are having fun at my expense,” he said, smiling a little to take any sting out of his words.

Rose grinned up at him as she undid the last of his buckles. “I’m sure Josie would get you a mask with some pretty jewels if you asked nicely.”

Cullen chuckled. “Maker it’s good to laugh. I have been accused of working too hard.”

Rose gave an exaggerated gasp. “I’ve overheard your recruits speculating that you don’t require actual sleep.”

Cullen rolled his eyes. “I get some sleep,” he said, then his face hardened. “Such as it is.”

Rose tugged on his breastplate and freed Cullen from the two halves. “How are you feeling?” she said in a low voice. “Do you have a withdrawal headache?”

“I always do, but it is mild today.” He took the armour from Rose and carefully placed it on the floor along with his cloak and mantle.

They both looked back at the group as Della’s voice rose. “I do not require a dress to dance, I require the use of my legs.”

Rose and Cullen walked back to stand in line.

“Why am I the only one tricked into wearing a dress?” Rose muttered.

“I’m glad you did,” whispered Cullen.

Rose looked at him as they lined back up. His ears were pink. “Thank you,” she whispered back.

Monsieur M clucked his tongue at Della. “You are slouching Inquisitor. Stand up tall.”

Della growled audibly. “I’m a fucking dwarf, you Orlesian cocknozzle.”

Monsieur M let the insult roll off him. Rose was grudgingly impressed. “But you must stand up straight,” he said, “to show your partner you find him ravishing and sexy through the power of your performance.”

Dorian beamed. “Finding me ravishing and sexy would be easy for anyone.” He grunted as Della jabbed her elbow into his side.  

Monsieur M moved his gaze to Dorian. “You are from Tevinter.” He paused and looked thoughtful, taking in Dorian’s apparel and bearing. “Yes, you’ll do.”

Dorian visibly preened. Cassandra made a disgusted noise. Monsieur M moved to stand in front of the Seeker.

“This was not part of the negotiations,” she said. “Move along.”

Monsieur M looked crestfallen. “But…”

Cassandra’s expression didn’t change. “Move along or I will move you along.”

Monsieur M paused, but obviously thought the better of taking on Cassandra. He regarded Blackwall, then gave a deep sigh, shook his head and walked back over to Vivienne.

“Reckon he thinks I’m the prettiest of all,” said the Warden loudly.

“Reckon he does,” said Della, leering at Blackwall.

Monsieur M gestured to the lute player. “Ignazio, please commence. We shall undertake a traditional Orlesian Morning Dance and I will see what I am working with.”

Ignazio started playing, the sweet strains of the lute drifting around the large room.

“What is an Orlesian Morning Dance?” said Cullen out of the side of his mouth.

Rose wrinkled her nose. “Well on the most basic level, you start with your left foot and put it forward, then step to the side with your right foot and then close your left foot to your right foot. And then right foot backwards, left foot side and then close with the right. I do all of that but backwards while you are grabbing me. Easy!”

Cullen looked bewildered.

“I’ll show you. This is how we stand.” Rose stood in front of Cullen and placed her left hand on his shoulder. “Put your right hand on my shoulder blade, and our other hands are palm to palm.” She waggled the fingers of her right hand and he placed his hand against hers. She curled her fingers around his gloved hand and looked up into his face. His expression was soft and tender, and her chest felt tight as she regarded him.

Monsieur M’s voice intruded. “You are talking and not dancing. Everyone else is dancing.”

Rose looked at the others. Cassandra and Blackwall were actually quite good. Rose suspected the Warden had been lying when he’d said he couldn’t dance. Della most certainly was not a skilled dancer but she and Dorian looked to be having fun.

“You have good posture and stance, noblewoman,” he said, looking at her dispassionately. He turned his attention to Cullen. “You, handsome one! Hold the lady like you mean it.”

Cullen’s expression of confusion deepened, but he tightened his grip on Rose.

“Oof,” she said as Cullen squashed her against his broad chest with his strong grip. They were squashed together chest to knee with only thin layers of fabric between them.

Rose was rapidly becoming both aroused and embarrassed by the situation.

_I’ve been in close proximity to plenty of my patients_ , she told herself sternly, _and I didn’t lose my head like a silly girl._

Cullen smelled very good though, like the witch hazel and elderflower of the ointment she made him for headache relief and she could feel his firm body through the fabric of his shirt.

Monsieur M gave an approving hum. “Excellent.”

“Careful Cullen,” said Dorian as he whirled a giggling Della past them, “you wouldn’t want to crush the lovely Healer’s delicate bosom.”

Cullen’s face flushed even redder and he loosened his grip a little. Rose did not want to admit to herself that she was disappointed at the loss of contact.

“Now experience the grand passion between you!” barked Monsieur M, with tones more suited for the training yard than a ballroom. “Dance like you are feathers floating on the most delightful breeze.”

“Remember what I told you,” Rose murmured, finally finding her voice again. “Left forward, side right, close left to right. Then right back, left side and close right.”

Rose started the dance so Cullen had no choice but to follow her. Monsieur M scrutinized them, tapping his finger on his lip.

Finally the Orlesian man nodded his head. “The noblewoman is obviously leading from behind, but it is an acceptable start. Handsome man, cease watching your feet.”

They kept dancing around the room. Cullen had a small frown between his eyes and he was clearly focusing hard on the steps. Standing so close, Rose could see the clear amber colour of his eyes.

“You’re doing well,” she whispered to him.

“I fear I am better at hitting things with my sword than I am at dancing,” he murmured in reply.

“You haven’t stepped on me once, that’s really very good.”

Cullen improved sufficiently over the period of their practice that Monsieur M even gave them both a respectful nod.   

“Time to stop dancing for today.” The dancing master clapped his hands. “We shall reconvene tomorrow at the same time.”

Cullen opened his mouth like he was going to voice an objection, but then stopped and looked at Rose. She raised her eyebrows at him and he smiled instead. “Until tomorrow then?” he said.

She smiled back. “Until tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There were a lot of goats in this chapter. The author regrets nothing!


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Confession time – I’ve been getting very distracted by writing an unashamedly smutty Game of Thrones fanfic! It kind of makes me regret making this one such a slow burn, since we’re a little ways off the smut. Don’t worry though, we’ll get there eventually and it will be thoroughly earned!
> 
> To make up for the wait on this chapter, please accept my offer of extra kitten content :-)

“Do you normally have an abundance of kittens when you treat people?” Rose’s patient said, shaking her hair out of her eyes. Beatrice Pavus batted the lock of hair with one pristine white paw, content on her perch on the patient’s shoulder.

“Their cat mother considers me their human mother,” Rose said absently, flicking through her patient notes, “it’s just easier to go along with that.”

The other woman laughed, reaching up to pat the kitten. “I can understand that. No point arguing with cats.”

“Now, Kalara mentioned you had some issues with your garlic tincture?”

“It makes me reek of garlic. No one will want to kiss me.” She winked at Rose. “Even Varric says I stink.”

“It’s best for your body to heal naturally from the dropsy than through magical means. I want you to be fit for any upcoming travels.”

“You’re the first mage healer I’ve met that thinks magic isn’t always the best option. I wish I could heal though.” She got a faraway look in her eye. “Anders always tries to teach me, but I could never manage much other than my Force magic.”

Rose felt a tingling in her fingertips, the Fade drawing closer as Marian Hawke gathered a trickle of her magic. She sent some balled up sheets of scrap parchment that the kittens had previously been playing with across the floor. From under the desk Josephine’s intended kitten, Raspberry Montilyet, gave an excited meeping noise, emerged in a streak of ginger and scampered after them. The as yet nameless royal kitten blinked sleepily at Raspberry from the large basket in the corner of Rose’s office. Beatrice jumped off Hawke’s shoulder and leaped onto her sister, rolling around in a puff of soft fur and tiny growls.

“Nicely controlled. I haven’t met many Force mages.”

“It’s a very Kirkwallian speciality.” Hawke, as she preferred to be called, regarded Rose curiously. “For a Circle mage you’re very calm about an apostate flagrantly using their powers for no good reason.”

Marian Hawke had arrived at Skyhold five days before Della and her team had come back to Skyhold from their trip to the Fallow Mire. She’d staggered into the castle and promptly collapsed and fallen into a coma because of dropsy centred around her brain. She’d been Rose’s patient ever since, though she was almost back to full health. A good thing too, because she kept sneaking out to join Varric on the battlements to drink ale and carouse. Well, as carouse as much as one could when ostensibly keeping a low profile. It turned out that Cassandra had interrogated Varric in Kirkwall about Hawke, and now both were trying to avoid the Seeker.

“I’m glad to hear my status isn’t a source for gossip any longer.” At Hawke’s questioning eyebrow raise Rose continued. “I was an apostate for some years. I escaped the Circle when I was pregnant with my daughter.”

Hawke gasped. “You escaped? We spent fucking years helping mages escape that blighted Kirkwall Circle. It was incredibly difficult to do.”

“The Ostwick Circle wasn’t quite as secure as the Kirkwall Circle was rumoured to be. Regardless, my brother died during my escape.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Was your brother a mage or a templar?”

“A templar. He joined the Order when I was taken to the Circle.”

“Mine is a templar too.” Hawke grimaced dramatically. “Carver comes from a family of fucking apostates, and he joined the Order. Well that’s one way to rebel I suppose.”

“Not all templars were bad. Our Knight-Captain was the father of my daughter Ivy.” Rose realised as soon as she’d finished speaking that using Martin as an example of a templar who wasn’t bad was probably not the most accurate thing to say. Though he never physically hurt her during their encounters. Using her body for his own pleasure with utter indifference to how she felt was more accurate. That wasn’t bad, as such. Not compared to templars who actively abused mages.

_Did I really have an option to say no to him?_ The thought came softly, catching her unawares. _What would have happened if I’d resisted? If I’d tried to stop our encounters?_

Rose blinked and focused back on the situation at hand, forcibly pushing her thoughts of Martin away. “It was more of a systemic problem in my opinion, though that’s a moot point now that the Circles have fallen.”

“You had sex with a templar and lived to tell the tale? Not sure I’m so keen on that kind of power imbalance in a relationship,” Hawke said shrewdly, echoing Rose’s own uncomfortable thoughts.

“I was one of the lucky ones,” Rose said in a low voice, “all things considered.”

Hawke stood and picked up one of the balls of parchment, throwing it to the kittens. “We’ve been helping to liberate Circles for the past couple of years. Good riddance.”

Hawke was apparently the lover of Anders, the mage who had destroyed the Kirkwall Chantry and initiated the fall of the Circles across southern Thedas. It was a vexed issue, in Rose’s opinion. As a mage, the situation had been untenable, and dramatic change had had to happen. She didn’t know that change would ever have happened without Anders’ actions, but the loss of life in the explosion and aftermath sickened her.

She straightened her back. _My calling is to be a physician_ , she thought. _I’m not here to make judgements, I’m here to treat my patients._

“I just want to run some final tests to make sure your faculties are still acceptable.”

Hawke sat back down and regarded Rose. “Well that’s always debatable, but go ahead.”

“Can you read and write?”

“I can. Mother taught us all.” A flash of sadness crossed Hawke’s face before her usual ebullience came back. “If nothing else it means I can read Varric’s books and tell him with absolute confidence how shit they are.”

Rose laughed as she searched for a scrap of parchment. “I’m sure he appreciates your, ah, criticism.” She wrote a sentence and passed the parchment to Hawke. “What does this say?”

Hawke squinted at the page. “It looks like you wrote ‘There are many kittens in this room’,” she said, “but your penmanship is shockingly bad. Typical. Why is it that physicians are always so untidy?”

Rose rolled her eyes. “We have enough on our minds without bothering with our handwriting?” She passed Hawke the quill. “Now you write something for me.”

Hawke hunched over the paper, shielding it from Rose’s gaze. She finished with a flourish and handed it with a grin to Rose.

Rose looked at it and snorted with amusement. “A drawing of a penis hardly counts as writing.” She tilted her head to the side. “Though it’s a good rendition. You’re quite talented.”

“Thank you,” Hawke replied with mock gravity. “Anything else you need for your testing?”

Rose winced as, under the desk, Beatrice attacked her stocking-clad feet with typical enthusiasm. She’d removed her boots in anticipation of a day mostly spent in her office. “Well I was going to ask some general knowledge questions.”

“Go ahead, though I’ve been on the run these past couple of years so my knowledge of current events is a little lacking.”

“Nothing too tricky,” Rose said, detaching Beatrice and throwing an old quill for her to chase. “Who is the ruler of Ferelden?”

“King Alistair. You know I met him once?” Hawke grinned in apparent remembrance. “Very nice chap. It turned out he’d once been intimately acquainted with my friend Isabela. He and Warden-Commander Brosca. It was hilarious, he turned all kinds of red when Bela talked to him. Apparently he’s a fantastic lover.”

“Well. Thank you for the dubious gift of that particular knowledge.” Rose shook her head and laughed, then tapped on her chin, considering another question. “Here’s something less potentially scandalous…”

“Well that’s a shame,” Hawke interjected with a smile.

“Where are we and why are we here?”

“We’re in Skyhold, the seat of the Inquisition. We’re in danger from Corypheus, an ancient magister whom I fucking killed years ago. I personally am here, well, I need to discuss that further with the Inquisitor.”

Rose nodded slowly. “Alright, very good. One more question, what is the capital of the Tevinter Imperium?”

Hawke scowled. “Minrathous, the slave-owning fuckwits.”

Rose nodded again. “Your memory seems to be acceptable, I think you are well enough to conduct any business.”

“Excellent.” Hawke jumped to her feet, nimbly avoiding the circling kittens. “I’ll bid you farewell. Inquisitor Cadash will be expecting me soon.”

“Alright. Let me know if you have any headaches or dizziness.”

Rose stretched when Hawke had left, then looked at the pile of parchment on her desk and sighed. She winced as Raspberry clawed her way up Rose’s leg, then lap, then onto the desk.

“I’d appreciate any help with this,” she said to the kitten, “because I’d rather be out with my patients than dealing with the resulting paperwork.”

Raspberry yawned and flopped onto Rose’s notes detailing a routine ingrown toenail extraction.

Rose looked up at the knock on her door. Cullen stood there, looking a little on edge, with his hand on the pommel of his sword.

She beckoned him into the room. “Maker’s balls Cullen, what are you doing here? Have you even set foot in the Infirmary before?”

He frowned slightly as he entered. “I’ve been talking with Nurse Kalara. Regardless, I do leave my office from time to time. Chess with Dorian, weapons training.” He blushed and hesitated a moment before continuing. “Dancing practice with you.”

Rose’s heart felt like it was doing a little flip flop in her chest at the reminder of their dancing, but she soldiered on. “You know there are rumours Della has to threaten you to get you out of the office voluntarily?”

He huffed a breath. “Well there may, ah, be some truth to that. I think Dorian is in on it too.” He pulled the spare chair up to her desk and sat down. He looked perplexed and picked up Hawke’s artwork, turning it around to examine it before widening his eyes and saying “Maker’s breath.”

“That, ah, that’s not mine.” She paused. “Well, I suppose it is.”

Cullen raised his eyebrow. Raspberry jumped off the desk in a huff, seemingly disturbed by the shuffling of papers. She joined her sisters in the basket and went back to sleep.

Rose huffed a laugh. “I am most assuredly female. Hawke drew the picture for me. I was testing her mental facilities.”

Cullen looked pained. “Ahh yes, our esteemed guest. Remind me to ensure she doesn’t associate with Sera.”

“Where’s your sense of fun? I’m sure they’d enjoy collaborating.”

As if summoned by their discussion, Hawke walked back in the room, giving the door a token knock as she did so. She stopped mid-stride and stared at Cullen. “Kni… ah, Commander,” she said coolly. She flicked her gaze down at the drawing Cullen was still holding. “Feeling inadequate?”

Cullen flushed scarlet and put the piece of parchment back on the desk, picture side down. “Champion,” he said shortly.

Rose looked between the two of them and frowned. The cheerful Hawke of minutes earlier had disappeared entirely. “Was there something else you needed, Hawke?”

Hawke focused on Rose. “I meant to get the recipe for that fucking awful garlic tincture from you. I won’t be staying in Skyhold for much longer now that I am well, I have some business to attend to.”

“I’ll write it down now, if you don’t mind waiting a few moments.” Rose found a blank sheet of parchment and began writing.

Hawke nodded brusquely and turned her gaze back to Cullen. “How is my brother managing without his lyrium, do you think?” she said abruptly.

“As far as I was aware,” Cullen replied, “Carver was still in Kirkwall with the Order. He was an excellent templar.”

**Obtain sliced fresh garlic to the amount of one standard Orlesian wine glass** , Rose wrote whilst the others spoke.

Hawke snorted. “I’m sure he was until they all started going batshit. And this is batshit compared to your former boss rage-monstering into a fucking statue.”

Cullen sighed, his stance tense. “Hawke…”

**Add two glasses of good Starkhaven malt whisky** , Rose paused with her quill above the page and looked at the others, considering the difficulties of obtaining Starkhaven whisky for mages who are in hiding.  

Hawke made a gesture of dismissal. “Aveline has taken him somewhere away from all that shit. She’s been in contact with Varric about it.”

**Or same amount of pure grain alcohol** , Rose wrote, **and mix with the garlic and store in a flagon for three weeks, shaking it daily.**

“Good,” Cullen said firmly, then paused. “And Hawke, stopping the lyrium is survivable. If anyone can do it, Carver can.”

Hawke looked at him searchingly. “I’m sure Samson would argue your point, but I’m not here to debate with you.”

The air was heavy with tension and Rose wrote the rest quickly. **Strain the mixture into a dark-tinted potion bottle and store in a cold place.**

She blew on the parchment to dry the ink.

Hawke smiled, and it didn’t reach her eyes. “You could dry it with magic, but perhaps that wouldn’t be best in present company.”

“It’s dry now, regardless,” Rose said, holding out the parchment for Hawke.

The other mage took it with a dramatic flourish. “Thank you kindly, now I really shall be on my way to see the Inquisitor.” Hawke looked between the two of them and pursed her lips. “Be careful Healer. Templars do not look out for the best interests of those they despise.”

Cullen shut his eyes when she had left the room again, letting his shoulders slump for a moment. The royal kitten, destined for the household of the aforementioned King Alistair, stirred awake in the basket that now contained her sleeping sisters. She trotted over to Cullen and scrambled onto his lap, curling up into a loudly purring ball. He started, obviously not expecting feline company, but then gave a small smile and began stroking her soft fur.

Rose raised her eyebrows, touched that Cullen was willing to show his emotions so freely in front of her, but curious about Hawke’s words. “That seemed more specific than a general warning.”

Cullen opened his eyes again and regarded her sombrely. “I was… a different person in Kirkwall. Hawke and I had many regrettable encounters over the years, and she’s never forgiven me for recruiting her brother into the Order.”

Rose leaned forward on her desk, watching him. “Alright.”

“I hated mages for a long time,” he said bluntly.

“Hate is certainly a strong word,” Rose said slowly. “That’s different to fearing us, or wanting our power to be controlled.”

He nodded. “I had reasons, good reasons at the time for thinking the way I did, but even so I was wrong.” He looked down at the sleeping royal kitten, then back up at Rose. “I cannot change what I did, but I am trying to be a better man. I’ll be trying for the rest of my life, but that is all I can do.”  

“I believe you.”

Cullen looked surprised. “Really?”

“Even when you’ve done things I haven’t liked…” the memory of him holding a sword to her throat came back in a flash and she winced, “…you’ve had good reason. And you clearly don’t hate mages anymore.” The memory of the terrible fall of Haven faded, and was replaced by that of him holding her against his firm, warm body as they practiced dancing together. Her cheeks became hot.

He seemed to be having the same thoughts, because he’d gone pink too. “I was wondering if you would be interested in dining with me this evening?” he blurted. “We could talk some more then, when we both have time?”

Rose blinked in surprise.

“And about Inquisition business too, of course,” he said hurriedly. “I would be interested in your perspectives of the health situation in the permanent Army camp in the valley. Especially since we are leaving for Halamshiral so soon.”

“For people or goats?” she said, smiling as the atmosphere in her office became lighter.

“People,” he said seriously.

Her smile broadened.

“Oh you were joking. Yes, well.” Cullen was rubbing the back of his neck and looking sheepish. The kitten stirred, awoken by his movement, and changed position, grumbling a small meow at him. “Only if it is convenient, of course.”

Rose had a sudden flood of affection for Cullen. “I’ll ask Val if she’s free to watch the children a little longer, though I’m sure it’ll be fine, she’s always offering. I’d enjoy having dinner and talking more with you, that sounds…”

_Romantic?_ supplied her unhelpful brain.

“...that sounds very pleasant,” Rose finished. “For, um, work reasons.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dropsy is an archaic term for edema – which is an abnormal accumulation of fluid, located beneath the skin and in the cavities of the body.
> 
> I debated mentioning Anders or not, since he is, to say the least, a divisive figure in the fandom. Rose’s opinion is formed from her own experiences as a mage and knowing the basic details of what happened in Kirkwall. She doesn’t know about Meredith calling for an annulment of the Circle there or the many, many mage deaths before that. She also doesn’t know about Justice.


End file.
